Thriller
by Racey
Summary: Ichigo has no idea what he's gotten himself into at his new job at Hueco Mundo, the local mental institute. AU, Yaoi, swearing, violence, OOCness.
1. Chapter 1

**THRILLER**

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**This was supposed to be written for Halloween, BUT the previous one was erased, SO, I'm giving it another go. Also, this was meant to be a oneshot, but as I started writing, it evolved. I'm not sure how long it WILL be yet, but this first chapter should give me an idea by how you respond to it. **

**Thanks to my beta, Sonbon, for being so patient with me on this! Thanks, dearest! ;D**

**Ok, here we go!**

Onwards...

XOXOXOXO

_Why, in the name of all kami, had he taken this job again?_

_Oh, yeah._

_Karin needed the money for knee surgery._

_Fuck._

_Oh, well. No use crying over spilled milk, now_. He had accepted the job and had been working there for three months already. Long enough to know the ropes, and long enough to know that when the going got tough, it didn't mean punk out and quit. _It just meant that he needed to build a tougher shell. Learn how to go with the flow of things._

_Which was obviously easier said than done._

Ichigo sat in his beat up, two-door, 2001 Honda Civic, contemplating staying there forever, rather than getting out of the chilly vehicle and heading into his place of employment for the graveyard shift. He glanced out of the slightly frosted window and peered up at the large, gray, stone building with no small amount of disdain. To make matters worse, it was pouring raining, dark storm clouds obscuring what little moonlight there had been a few hours ago.

Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. Ichigo shuddered.

The old building looked positively ominous, making sinister vibes swarm his entire being. Shadows rose and fell with each flash of lightning and the booming thunder was loud enough to shake the ground and make the car vibrate.

_Did he mention he HATED thunderstorms?_

There were so many elements working against him at the moment, telling him to call out sick (even though his boss would hear none of that, considering his shift was only twenty minutes away from starting) and peel out of the parking lot. _For one, there was the thunderstorm. Two, the building itself was creepy and reminded him way too much of that American movie, House on a Haunted Hill. Thirdly, it was Halloween. Well, technically, Halloween would be over in about an hour, but the scare factor was still there._

Sighing dejectedly, he pushed his creaky car door open, threw the hood to his black hoodie over his head, and sprinted through the downpour towards the entrance of the ancient building. He deftly skipped over puddles, trying to avoid ruining his white scrubs. _Not that he cared, but his anal boss would probably pitch a fit. Something about appearance is a person's best impression...or...whatever...he didn't know._

Ichigo skidded to a stop before the huge, steel door and pulled his ID from beneath his hoodie. He slipped it from around his neck and swiped it through the security pad, waiting for the light to blink a neon green twice before pulling the heavy door open.

The bright, fluorescent lighting nearly blinded him, causing black spots to dance across his vision. Blinking several times to adjust, he started through the long, pristine white halls for the employee lounge, where the lockers were located. His footsteps echoed loudly on the polished, gray linoleum, his sneakers squeaking noisily.

Silence hung heavily in the air, considering the hour, and Ichigo was glad he no longer worked the second shift. He could handle the quiet better than he could handle the strange patients of Hueco Mundo. Dealing with the patients was never fun, actually, oftentimes scary. They were all state-declared mentally unstable and he had been confronted with the blatant truth of that statement several times during his stint working the second shift.

**Three Months Ago**

_Ichigo fiddled nervously with his newly issued identification card. He glanced down, studying the picture above his name. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, brown eyes wide and bright, orange hair sticking up in spiky waves. Grimacing slightly, he released the ID card, letting it fall to hang around his neck from the dark-blue string it was connected to._

_His old man had insisted he take this job as an orderly at the local mental institute, Hueco Mundo, claiming it would aid in the money required for his younger sister's knee surgery. As a soccer player, the injury had been devastating for her, and Ichigo would do anything to see Karin smile again. It was really the only time she had let loose and now that had been taken from her._

_Working as an orderly couldn't be that bad._

_So, there he was, standing in the Day Room of Hueco Mundo, supervising a group of patients. Most played games, others watched the television located in the corner of the room, while the rest ambled listlessly about. There were only around fifteen patients currently in the Day Room, so supervising them shouldn't be so hard. Besides, there were two other orderlies working with him. He would be fine._

_One of his co-workers, a tall, brown-skinned man with dark, wavy hair, stood on the opposite side of the room, thick arms crossed over his chest. His hair fell across his left eye, leaving only his right visible, but even that did nothing to detract from his formidable appearance. _

_Ichigo's other co-worker was also tall, with dark-brown, wavy hair, except his hair was pushed back from his forehead, giving an excellent view of piercing, gray eyes. He was extremely handsome, but Ichigo didn't see how the man fit in as an orderly. He always seemed incredibly tired, yawning every so often and lounging in one of the blue, plastic chairs littered throughout the Day Room._

_Well, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover._

_Ichigo peered around the room at the various patients. A slender, pale young man sat primly beside the large window near the ping pong table. His black hair framed both sides of his thin face, and long, elegant fingers pushed up a pair of rectangular-framed glasses every few minutes. A stuffed, golden lion sat in his lap as the man stared morosely out of the window. Ichigo wondered what was bothering him, but knew better than to ask. _

_You're not their friend, you're their supervisor._

_Or at least, that's what the boss had said. _

_Ichigo glanced at the man again, only to see a tear slide down the side of that pale face. He looked around, worried that the man would become unstable, only to meet the gray-eyed, brown-haired man's amused gaze. Ichigo arched a brow and the man sauntered over._

_"I'm Stark. You must be Ichigo," he stated, deep voice rumbling pleasantly._

_Ichigo nodded and held his hand out, accepting the gesture from the taller man, "Y-yeah. Oi, you know what's wrong with that guy?" he hesitantly asked._

_Stark yawned loudly, his jaw cracking from the force of it, "Mmm? Oh, him? Yeah, that's Ishida Uryuu. He's always like that, sittin' in the window with that lion plushie. He claims he was an excellent seamstress - emphasis on seamstress - before he was put in here. He, uh, actually thinks he's a woman."_

_Ichigo gaped at Stark, mind unable to wrap itself around the concept. That young man thought he was...a woman? _

_Holy shit._

_Stark chuckled and ruffled Ichigo's hair, "Don't worry, kid, you'll get used to it. They've all got a strange little quirk. Just be glad you're working with this group instead of the one in Las Noches. These guys are harmless compared to those monsters," he drawled somberly, a serious expression settling on his face._

_Ichigo shuddered forcefully. Shit. What the hell had he gotten himself into?_

_Stark ambled off to re-occupy his seat across the room and Ichigo's eyes met with a pair of startlingly aqua orbs. A head full of snow-white hair glared back as well, practically glowing under the flourescent lighting of the Day Room. The odd hair and eyes belonged to what - at first glance - appeared to be a boy, but upon closer inspection turned out to be a very short man. The little man was staring coldly at Ichigo, making an icy sensation creep down his back._

_What the hell was his problem?_

_Ichigo scowled deeply, hoping against hope that this patient wasn't about to cause any trouble. Suddenly, the giant orderly standing against the wall on the opposite side of the room, pushed away from said wall and headed in his direction. Ichigo shifted nervously as the man finally came to a stop before him. A huge, brown hand was held forward and the man's deep voice came forth as a low rumble._

_"Sado. Ichigo, right?" _

_Did everyone already know his name?_

_"Chad-o?" Ichigo inquired, tilting his head to the side._

_"It's Sado."_

_"That's what I said...Chado."_

_The giant's eye glimmered with amusement as he gave a low chuckle and nodded, "Yeah, sure. I guess you wanna know what's up with Hitsugaya, right?"_

_"H-Hitsugaya?" Ichigo stuttered._

_Chado nodded towards the white-haired man still glaring murderously, "Him."_

_"Yeah, it would be nice to know why he looks like he wants to pull out my insides with his bare hands."_

_"He's very cranky. He hates all the orderlies because we all call him "Hitsugaya", but he wants to be called "Hitsugaya-taichou". He's supposedly a war hero and old army captain, and he also thinks you're going to neglect that. He mean-mugs all the orderlies until he figures out where their loyalties lie."_

_Ichigo tried to suppress a soft chuckle, but couldn't. It gushed through his lips, making him cover his mouth. He didn't want Hitsugaya thinking he was laughing at him, although, technically, he was. Chado smirked slightly, placing his humongous hand on Ichigo's shoulder in a friendly manner. He definitely appreciated the gesture._

_Maybe this place wouldn't be so bad, after all._

_As Chado went back to his spot on the opposite side of the room, an unnaturally tall, lanky man slowly approached Ichigo. The man wore a light-blue bandana across his left eye and his raven-colored hair hung down, just past his shoulders. A wide, piano-key toothed grin split his face in half, narrowing the visible, violet-hued eye. _

_Terror seized Ichigo as ice chips slid down his spine and goosebumps covered his skin. Was this it, then? Stark claimed these patients were harmless, but the look on this man's face stated otherwise._

_He had never felt fear like this before._

_The tall man finally stood right before Ichigo, still grinning fiendishly. The facility-issued, white t-shirt hung loosely from his painfully thin frame, as did the light-blue pants, fashioned after hospital scrubs. On the man's feet were a pair of dark-blue, terrycloth slippers over white socks._

_"What's yer name, Marine?" he asked. _

_Ichigo gaped at the man._

_"Marine?"_

_"Yeah, Marine! All da' guys in white are marines. Well, da' man with da' pink hair, he's da' Admiral, but, all da' rest a'yas, yer marines."_

_"But...we're not in the water. I'm-I'm not a marine," Ichigo stuttered._

_"Course ya are! Yer wearin' white, ain't ya?"_

_"Y-yeah, but..."_

_"Den' dat makes ya a mariiine," the taller man said slowly as if he were educating a child. "Anyway, s'not what I came ta discuss with ya." The man took a step closer and leaned his long, upper body forward, "Since yer still fairly new, I was thinkin' maybe I'd recruit ya fer mah crew."_

_Ichigo opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. All he could do was gawk at the taller man, wondering what exactly the hell he was talking about._

_"Ya know, da' way I see it, yer not suited ta be a lowly marine. Naw. Yer a pirate, through an' through, I c'n tell. Cap'n Jiruga knows dese things."_

_Ichigo coughed slightly, hiding a grin behind his fist. This man was an absolute lunatic. A pirate? Seriously? "So, er, ahem, what, uh, what makes you think I'm suited to be a pirate? Jiruga, did you say?" he asked nervously. He knew talking to the patients this way was against the rules, but this was just too good to pass up._

_The man nodded, wide grin spreading to damn near reach his ears, "Ah. Cap'n Nnoitra Jiruga at yer service, marine...?" Nnoitra's voice trailed off in question._

_Ichigo jolted in surprise. He hadn't expected to be asked for his name. "Uh, Kurosaki."_

_"Yosh, Marine Kurosaki! Taday's yer lucky da-"_

_"Awww, but Captain, you told me I could do the recruiting!" a voice whined petulantly._

_Ichigo's head darted to the side, brow bunched in confusion. Now what?_

_A medium-sized man with dirty-blond hair, stood off to the side, carefully assessing Ichigo as if he were stuck in a petri dish. The new man's right eye was covered with a small, black eyepatch, his visible, left eye sparkling a cloudy gray. He eased beside Nnoitra and glanced up at the man with a look of pure adoration, while the taller, raven-haired male grinned saucily._

_"Yeh, I know dat! If ya weren't bein' so lazy 'dis mornin', ya woulda been able ta recruit 'dis one!" Nnoitra exclaimed._

_"I wasn't being lazy! Those damned marines put something in my food last night and it made me all...weird. Besides, I didn't know we were allowed to recruit THEM," the blond stated, indicating Ichigo with a swift point of his chin and voice dripping disdain._

_Nnoitra cackled, rocking back on his heels, "Well, he's diff'rent."_

_Ichigo was unsure of what to think, nevermind how to proceed. He knew for certain that the orderlies would never put anything into a patient's food, simply because they'd rather take the direct approach, by either injection or administering medication in pill form. The pills would be given at a certain time and the patients were directed to take them in front of the orderlies, just to be sure that the medication was taken properly. _

_"I don't see it. I mean, sure, he's got some strange hair, but so does Hitsugaya-taichou and you didn't recruit him," the blond pointed out, making Ichigo scowl darkly. _

_He hated when people talked about his hair. The fact that a mentally unstable person had done the talking, only added salt to the wound._

_"Oi-" he started, ready to chew the blond's head off._

_"S'ok, Marine Kurosaki, don' mind mah first mate. He can be kinda rude ta guests sometimes, right, Tesla?" Nnoitra inquired with a menacing glare._

_The blond named Tesla, shrank away from the penetrating stare, merely nodding and hanging his head shamefully. Ichigo bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest to stifle the bubble of laughter threatening to burst from his chest at any moment._

_"Anyway," Nnoitra continued, "what say ya, Marine Kurosaki? Ya wanna be an Espada?"_

_A...what?_

_"A what?" Ichigo asked quizzically._

_"Espada! Dat's da name a'mah crew. Ya like it, eh?" the taller man asked, wiggling his visible brow and making Ichigo inwardly chortle._

_This was too fun._

_"Er, yeah, sure. It sounds awesome. So, what are the benefits of joining your crew, if you don't mind me asking? I mean, as a marine, I get paid and everything. I can't just jump with no parachute, ya know?" _

_Come on. He couldn't help but play along. It was too entertaining._

_Nnoitra's violet eye lit up with unbridled excitement, "A'course ya c'n ask dat! What sane person wouldn't wanna know da pros a'joinin' da Espada? Che! They'd hafta be dumb!" _

_Ichigo nodded sagely, but before Nnoitra was given the chance to explain, Stark ambled over, "Sorry to break this up, but Nnoitra, you know better than to approach an orderly," the brunet stated tiredly._

_Nnoitra bristled and fisted his hands at his sides, "Dat's CAP'N JIRUGA ta YOU, filthy marine scum!"_

_"Yeah, whatever you say. Go on and play. You too, Tesla. Let's leave Kurosaki here alone."_

_"Tch. No worries, Marine Kurosaki, we'll talk bidness later," Nnoitra growled and stalked off, shooting a last icy glare at Stark._

_Ichigo turned to Stark with a tiny smirk, hoping it wouldn't blossom into the fit of hysterical laughter being held tightly under the surface. Stark rolled his eyes and shook his head, brown hair swaying slightly._

_"He's a little overbearing, but he's really harmless. He tried to 'recruit' me as well, and when I declined, he'd made it his personal mission to 'thwart' me," the older man said with a soft chuckle. "Don't worry about him."_

_Ichigo nodded and almost giggled like a girl. This was all too strange, but wholly hilarious._

_After that, no other patients approached him, although, Hitsugaya and Nnoitra watched him rather intently for the rest of his shift. Ichigo also spotted two females near the mounted television, giggling and pointing at him, while covering their mouths. They were both rather short and petite, with equally dark hair, one an inky black, the other a deep violet held up in two curly ponytails._

_He didn't know what they were whispering to each other about and frankly, he didn't really want to know. _

That had been the first and last time Ichigo worked the day shift at Hueco Mundo. The next morning, his boss had called him and asked him if he'd be willing to switch with another employee who preferred the second shift, rather than her third shift. There was nothing keeping him from refusing, so he'd agreed and had been promptly added to the graveyard shift. Three months later and he was still the newbie at Hueco Mundo, but he was more accustomed to the work environment.

Ichigo finally rounded a corner and reached a set of swinging, metal doors that he pushed open warily. _He really wasn't in the mood to work that night, but what could he really do? _He stepped inside, immediately pausing at the sight of two of his co-workers huddled at the large roundtable of the break room.

The two pranksters had been Ichigo's worst nightmare since he'd started working the third shift. They were like teenagers, putting strange things in his locker, sending him to odd places of the ancient facility before he was used to the layout, just all around causing trouble and being nuisances. He'd gotten them back a few times, but the double team left him at a disadvantage.

_Now, they seemed like they were up to something else. _

Their hushed conversation came to a halt when they noticed Ichigo standing in the doorway. Deciding to just get it all over with, he headed for his locker, undid the combination lock, stepped back and slowly swung the beige, metal door open, the hinges screaming in protest.

He peeked his head around and sighed in relief to find the space empty, but the hairs on the back of his neck hopped to attention when the two started cackling softly. Glaring over his shoulder as he removed his hoodie, he snapped angrily, "What's so fuckin' funny?"

The tall, bright-red-haired man scrunched his tattoed eyebrows in annoyance, his broad shoulders tensing as he glared right back at Ichigo, "Who the fuck ya talkin' to like that, Strawberry?"

The raven-haired male at his side grinned and placed a hand on one of those tense shoulders, "Don't be so rude, Renji. Ichigo's in for a long night as it is," he said, voice filled with amusement.

"What the hell are you talking about, Shuuhei?" Ichigo growled as he stuffed his hoodie into the small locker, certainly not liking the smug look gracing the spiky-haired bastard's face. He slammed the metal contraption closed and headed for the time-clock, swiping his ID through and waiting for his name to appear. Once it did, he turned to face the other two men, folding his arms over his chest in the process.

_What were they up to now?_

The taller of the two, Renji Abarai, sat up straighter in his seat, a small, evil smirk pulling at his lips. He too, folded his thick arms across his chest and stared Ichigo down. The silence dragged on, only serving to piss him off even more. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Shuuhei lifted a hand and pointed at the cork-materialed, bulletin board mounted on the wall behind him.

"You might wanna take a look at your schedule for tonight, berry head."

Ichigo scowled, but his heart suddenly began river dancing behind his ribs. _What the hell did his schedule have to do with anything?_ A deep sense of dread slowly overwhelmed him, sending warmth pooling in his gut and making his stomach quiver nervously as he mechanically moved towards the board.

The bulletin board held a few papers and posters relating to work ethic and etiquette, but there was also a large piece of paper, located directly in the middle of the haphazardly situated sheets, that held each employee's schedule for their designated shifts.

Ichigo approached the board stiffly, palms already starting to sweat. He desperately scanned the paper for his name and once it was found, mumbled aloud the words found.

_Kurosaki Ichigo_

_Third shift, eleven-thirty pm to seven-thirty am._

_So far, so good._

_Work area, Las Noches ward._

_..._

_Las No-_

_EH?_

Ichigo whirled around to face Renji and Shuuhei, brown eyes incredibly wide and mouth agape in shock. The two idiots stared back at him wearing twin, face-splitting, shit-eating grins.

_They knew! They knew he was scheduled to work in the dreaded Las Noches ward for the evening and they were fucking gloating! Smug fuckheads!_

"This is obviously wrong!" Ichigo shouted, in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

"Hoolyyy shit, he's losin' it," Renji snickered.

Shuuhei nodded and leaned back in his seat as if preparing to thoroughly enjoy the show. Ichigo had a mind to kick both of their asses, but at the moment, he had an entirely more pressing issue to deal with. He turned on his heel and fled the break room, the two idiots cackling as he made a hasty retreat.

Ichigo needed to know. _He needed proof; concrete evidence that he was really to work in the Las Noches ward that night, and he knew the only person he would get that information from was his boss_. His white Nike Air Forces slid and squeaked noisily against the glossy linoleum as he sprinted through the silent corridors towards his employer's office.

His heart was thrashing in his chest and adrenaline flooded his system, making his steps jerky and uncoordinated. His white, short-sleeved, v-neck uniform shirt stuck to his back, the slight perspiration there making an excellent adhesive. His equally white uniform pants clung to his legs as they pumped furiously, the whooshing air cooling his sweat-dampened face.

The quick run was oddly invigorating, but it did nothing to tamp down the sense of terror clogging his throat and making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. He pressed onwards, rounding a corner and finally slowing his steps as he approached his boss's office.

The large, wooden door held a pane of frosted glass, making the interior of the room impossible to see from the outside. Black letters on the glass read, Director Szayel Aporro Grantz, Ph.D. Ichigo paused, suddenly very nervous about entering the man's office.

_Should he really question his schedule?_

Ichigo thought about all the rumors he'd heard floating around about Las Noches. The place was like an urban legend, a myth to those that didn't and had never worked there. Hair-raising stories were told, but none were ever proven and Ichigo wasn't too sure he wanted to be the one cracking the mystery of the terrifying ward.

Las Noches supposedly held patients that were extremely unstable and oftentimes violent. Said ward held the infamous padded rooms, where each patient was confined alone to his/her room, strapped into a straitjacket.

_Very cliched, but apparently also very efficient._

Ichigo shuddered. _He had to know if what he'd seen on that schedule had been the truth_. He reached forward for the doorknob, but immediately changed his mind, raising his fist to knock first instead. The hollow sound echoed throughout the empty hallway, making him jittery.

"Enter," a charming tenor drifted from the other side of the door.

Ichigo finally wrapped a hand around the knob, turned and gently pushed the door forward, peeking his head around the side. Dr. Grantz stood near a tall, gray filing cabinet, one of the drawers opened and a manila folder held open in his hands. The cabinet was situated against the left wall, off to the side of a large, mahogany desk.

The office was huge, with a polished, hard-wood floor and pale green walls. There was a single window behind the desk, but it was covered with steel bars.

_Guess Dr. Grantz didn't trust his patients._

A door to the right led to what Ichigo assumed was the director's personal restroom, and beside the door was a large, glass enclosed bookshelf. Odd-looking specimens and microscopes littered the shelves, giving the lavish office space an eerie, scientific feel.

A black laptop was open on the desk, a loud whirring being emitted. Ichigo raised an orange brow at it, but refocused his gaze on his boss. Dr. Grantz wore a mustard-colored dress shirt with a black tie, the shirt tucked into black slacks. A long, white labcoat was worn over the immaculate outfit and black, leather dress shoes completed the look. The director watched Ichigo carefully, honey-colored eyes curious and calculating behind silver, rectangular-framed glasses.

_He felt like he was being dissected._

Dr. Grantz raised an elegant, pink brow (yeah, he said pink) and smiled amiably, "Ahh, Ichigo-san. What brings you here this evening?" he asked, closing the folder and slipping it back into the open drawer of the filing cabinet.

_Well, it was now or never._

Ichigo straightened his back and gathered his courage. _Dr. Grantz always made him so fucking nervous, like any minute the man would strap him to a gurney and perform experiments on him_. "D-Dr. Grantz, sir, I just, uh, you see...my schedule says I'm assigned to the Las Noches ward...and..." Ichigo trailed off nervously. Dr. Grantz had pinned him to the wall with his sharp gaze and he really didn't know what to do.

"What is it that you're asking, Ichigo-san?"

"Y-you, you really assigned me there?" Ichigo asked incredulously, his voice an indignant squeak.

Dr. Grantz smiled, then chuckled, a slim hand reaching up to his forehead to brush aside a strand of pink hair, "Well, Ichigo-san, I needed a replacement for one of my regular Las Noches orderlies. Kenpachi called in for a family emergency, since his daughter, Yachiru, is ill. I thought instead of calling someone else to fill in, I'd just use someone already scheduled for the third shift," the director explained.

Ichigo's brain felt like a pan of sizzling bacon, thoughts jumping out of his head like hot oil spatters.

_It was true._

_He was really scheduled to work the graveyard shift...in fucking Las Noches. _

_He wanted to cry._

_Being a man wouldn't permit him to do so, though._

"Something wrong, Ichigo-san?" Dr. Grantz asked, and Ichigo just knew the pink-haired director could probably smell the fear coming off of him from how strong it was.

"W-why me? I've never worked there before, so wouldn't someone with more-"

"Las Noches isn't as terrifying as most of the orderlies try to make it seem. The patients are confined to a solitary cell, some even wearing straitjackets, no less. You have nothing to fear, Ichigo-san," Dr. Grantz said comfortingly, but Ichigo detected a bit of impatience.

"Yes, sir," Ichigo muttered and began backing out of the man's office.

He got as far as the door, but was halted by the director's voice, tinged with warning, "Ichigo-san, whatever you do, do NOT go near padded room six in Las Noches."

The hair on the back of his neck raised and his blood chilled. _Hadn't Dr. Grantz just told him that there was nothing for him to be afraid of? So, why was he scaring the crap out of him now?_ Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and caught his boss's stern gaze, honey-colored eyes almost demanding. Ichigo nodded and slipped out of the director's office.

_Fuck._

XOXOXOXO

_Something was different. _

_He could feel it, could taste it...could hear it._

There was an unease from the authorities around the place, but an unbridled excitement from his fellow inmates. He could hear the anxious twittering that passed through his mind like a ghostly echo.

_Something was definitely different._

He'd been locked away in this hell-hole for a little over six months, having been declared mentally unstable and a danger to himself, as well as others.

_Bullshit._

_He would admit that he was dangerous, of that he had no doubt, but he certainly was NOT fucking mentally unstable. _

_Motherfuckers._

They didn't understand him. They never would. He was unique because he had a _gift_. An ability that no one shared or could relate to and since they didn't understand him, they feared him.

_Called him a freak._

_An abomination._

_Fuck 'em. _

_He didn't need anyone; all he needed was himself._

He shifted against the wall of his padded cell, yawning loudly, then cursing when the urge to scratch his chest became nearly unbearable.

_Stupid fucking straitjacket._

He slammed his head backwards, his mess of hair and the padded walls softening the blow. He wanted out of this place. He didn't belong there. Shit, he didn't belong anywhere, but he knew for certain that being locked away for the rest of his life in someone's loony bin wasn't his idea of _fun_.

_Fun_ was making those that called him such detestable names squirm and writhe while he cut off their oxygen without even laying a finger on them. Crushing their limbs until their precious blood pooled on the ground. _That_ was _fun_.

Sitting in this cell, nothing to stimulate his overactive brain and nothing to sate his enormous libido, was absolutely _not fun_.

What was worse, this entire situation could have been avoided. _He should have known not to trust the blond, but the man had been rather irresistable with that long hair, lean body and those lovely, dark eyes._

He spat disgustedly. Now he was locked in this boring prison because the blond had been on _their_ side. The side of the _law_.

"Che, what a fuckin' waste," he mumbled to himself.

He kicked his legs out in front of him, the long extremities tingling, having fallen asleep from sitting Indian-styled for too long. He wiggled his toes and sighed.

_He was fucking horny._

_And he couldn't even make love to his hand because of the stupid fucking straitjacket._

Shit, if they didn't keep him hopped up on sedatives all the damned time, he'd be out of this place already and not worrying about being horny. It was hard enough to keep his ability under control, what with him being drugged so much.

_Yet, they thought they had him on a leash. _

_Ha._

He glared down at the blue pants he wore. They reminded him of the uniforms doctors and nurses wore, except his came with a straitjacket, while theirs probably came with name tags and a paycheck.

_Waha! He cracked himself up..._

_...Yo, six, newbie's comin' yer way. He's cute as a button and just yer type..._

His head drifted up and his senses reached out, feeling for the man that Shirosaki had just alerted him to.

There...

_...don't know why I'm here...the fuck is Dr. Grantz thinking?...wait...where the hell am I?...shit..._

He smiled. _He couldn't influence the oaf named Kenpachi or the ice bitch, Halibel, but this guy was new meat. Like a breath of fresh air after a claustrophobic episode_.

_God, his dick was already hard._

**So, please lemme know what you think! Reviews would definitely be helpful here! Thanks for reading! xD**


	2. Chapter 2

**THRILLER**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Big thanks to my beta, Sonbon, as usual. I love how great you are! xD**

Onwards...

XOXOXOXO

Ichigo scowled darkly as he made his way to the dreaded Las Noches ward. His footsteps echoed loudly in the deserted hallways and he swore if anyone had been around, they would be able to hear his hammering heart. A large, metal door loomed before him and even though he didn't want to go beyond it, he was resigned to his fate.

Once he approached the door, he lifted his ID card and swiped it nervously through the security pad, the neon green light blinking cheerfully. He heaved the heavy portal open and passed over the threshold, absolute terror gripping him from the inside out.

_He seriously didn't want to be there._

The hall beyond the door was gray, cold and damp, the walls themselves seeming to cry in misery from housing the dangerous patients. The metal door clanged shut, making Ichigo jump nervously, then look around wildly. An ominous dripping noise echoed throughout the dimly lit corridor, causing the facility to truly resemble a scene from a horror flick. The lamps overhead, swung morosely back and forth, flickering and stuttering, the low wattage not doing a great job of illuminating anything.

The stone floor only added to the creepy atmosphere, but that had absolutely nothing on the surrounding cells. Thick, iron bars separated the patients from the outside world, while the small cell itself held a lonely futon and a mounted toilet. There was a total of six cells, three on each side of the short hallway and at the end of said hallway was a glass booth. Ichigo assumed that was where he was supposed to be stationed for the evening.

Directly to his right was another corridor that branched off and led to even more halls and cells. A strange vibe emanated from that direction that sent chills skittering down his spine.

_He definitely didn't like the feel of it._

Ichigo slowly made his way past the cells, frightening-looking patients staring at him as he walked by. One woman watched him intently, even going as far as sticking out her tongue and wiggling it at him. Her long, orange hair hung limply in her face creating a curtain that she peered through with ice-blue eyes. Her pouty lips were dry and cracked, but stretched into a coy smirk.

"Hey, cutie. Why dontcha undo this straitjacket and lemme show ya a thing or two," she crooned, her husky voice breaking from what Ichigo assumed was disuse.

He shook his head uncomfortably and marched past her, his steps quickening as he went. He tried to keep his focus forward in order not to make eye contact with anymore patients, but a whispered "psst" inevitably caught his attention. He slowly turned his head to the right and his eyes widened.

"Mah, what's yer name, new guy?"

Ichigo swallowed audibly and shivered. The aura dripping from this man screamed insane. He was tall, thin, had gleaming, silver hair and a wide cheshire cat grin - minus the teeth - and his grin was so big, it made his slanted eyes appear closed.

_What in the fuck?_

Ichigo ignored the man's question and continued towards the security booth.

Scratch that.

He practically ran.

He reached the booth, swiped his ID through and flung the door open, slipping inside, then happily sighing in relief. He felt like he'd just escaped a life-threatening situation. His heart was skipping behind his ribs and he'd broken into a cold sweat.

_These fucking Las Noches patients were scarier than that little creep that hosted that American show, Tales From the Crypt._

Ichigo stood in the doorway of the security booth, surveying his surroundings. The room was small and only held a tall desk, with two stools behind it, a counter on the opposite side covered with papers and folders, and a panel of screens that he assumed held the feed of security cameras.

In his haste to get inside, he had overlooked the fierce-looking, blonde woman seated in one of the stools behind the tall, metal desk. She was staring at him condescendingly with sharp, clear green eyes and a nearly blank expression. Her white scrubs contrasted with her bright, blonde hair and brown skin, but definitely didn't detract from her obvious good looks.

_Hell, if he actually swung that way, he would've considered asking her out._

_On the other hand, she looked kind of scary._

"You're Kenpachi's replacement."

Ichigo wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, but decided to nod anyway. She in turn, nodded as well before returning her focus to whatever book she was reading, "I'm Halibel. I already know you're Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo pressed his lips together and moved to the counter on the other side of the room, studying the small screens. There were scenes from all of the corridors of Las Noches, as labeled at the bottom of each screen. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so he moved to the only empty stool and sat.

And sat.

And then, sat some more.

Two hours had passed and Ichigo was beyond bored. He was really starting to wish he'd brought a book like Halibel had, but he hadn't known he wouldn't be doing anything at all.

He'd been studiously cleaning dirt from beneath his fingernails, when Halibel shifted, drawing his attention. He glanced over and noticed she had climbed to her feet and was heading for the security booth's door. As she pulled it open, she threw him a look over her shoulder, "Stay here, I'm going on lunch. I don't expect anything to happen, so you should be fine." And with that, she left the small room.

Ichigo watched with wide eyes as Halibel marched down the hallway and disappeared behind the large, metal door that marked freedom from Las Noches.

_Fuck._

_His lunch wasn't for another two and a half hours._

Which meant he was alone in Las Noches with a group of dangerously unstable people.

_Double fuck._

Not only that, but he seriously had to piss and he wasn't sure he could hold it until his lunch break. Ichigo didn't have to look around to know that there wasn't a bathroom anywhere near this main hallway, so that meant he would have to search the hallway he'd seen when he'd first entered Las Noches.

_Triple fuck._

Ichigo didn't appreciate not knowing anything about the place, other than it was seriously scary. His knees bounced up and down as he tried to ignore the feeling of his bladder expanding nearly to the point of exploding. His dick twitched uncomfortably and he knew for a fact that he wasn't going to be able to make it.

He jumped from his seat and eased out of the security booth, then briskly jogged to the end of the corridor, ignoring the jeering calls from a few of the patients. Ichigo hesitated at the entrance to the other hallway, but when a sharp twinge signaled his urinary release, he quickly trotted down the winding hall. There were a few scattered cells, but most of them were empty.

The empty passage twisted and turned into another winding corridor, this one housing strange-looking cells. Instead of iron bars separating the patients held inside, there were thick, glass walls, completely see-through and probably shatter-proof. One of three cells was empty, the other two occupied.

A petite man with inky-black hair and emerald green eyes sat against the far wall of the cell, staring out at Ichigo with a deadpan expression. A straitjacket confined his arms and he wore the customary blue scrubs. His feet were bare, but he didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he didn't seem to mind anything.

Ichigo rushed past his cell, only to stop dead in his tracks at the next.

_Thank heavens for the thick glass separating him from the patients because this man was the scariest...person...he'd ever seen in his life_. The man was pressed against the glass, even though he was confined in a straitjacket. His ash-white hair seemed to reflect the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the cell, as did his pale skin. He had the widest grin ever, but his eyes were the most frightening thing about him. They were inverted...somehow. The irises were a bright gold, while the sclera was crow-black.

Yet, that still, oddly, didn't top what the man was currently DOING.

The albino was pressed against the glass wall of his cell...LICKING the glass and wiggling his hips in an obscene manner. Ichigo shuddered and hurried past, unable to drown out the man's loud witch-cackling.

He rounded a corner and breathed a sigh of relief. The last corridor housed actual doors that had to lead to rooms of some sort. Once he took a closer look at the doors, his relief evaporated like a cloud. The doors were numbered one through six and he was currently standing right outside of the door labeled "6".

_Was this the padded room Dr. Grantz warned him about? Where the fuck was the bathroom then? He so didn't wanna be there. What the fuck was Dr. Grantz thinking? And where the fuck was he?_

Ichigo turned in a full circle, panic creeping in on him as he realized he had no idea where he was, but knew for certain he had no business there. He started to leave the area when a voice in his head halted his progress.

_What was that?_

He paused and perked his ears, hoping to hear the deep, gruff voice again. He craned his neck in interest, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he should be booking it out of there, but he wanted to find the origin of that sinful voice. For some reason, instead of scaring him, it intrigued him. _Almost turned him on._

_'Kurosaki, eh? Gotta first name, Kurosaki?'_ the voice inquired.

Ichigo jumped drastically and whirled around to look behind him. His heart was literally galloping in his chest and his palms and armpits were beginning to sweat. There was no one else in the short corridor.

_What the fuck was going on?_

_'Aww, don't be scared. I ain't gonna hurtcha.'_

Ichigo swallowed convulsively and blinked uncontrollably. His imagination was running away with him now. It was one thing when he thought the voice actually had an owner, but now that he couldn't see anyone, he was beginning to get afraid. His stomach pitched and rolled, making him totally nauseous.

"Wh-who are you?" he called out, feeling like a complete fool.

_'Ya want mah name? Or what they call me in here?'_ the deep voice continued.

"What do you mean?"

Ichigo knew his voice was shaking and unsteady, but he needed to know what the fuck was going on. The voice chuckled and the sound was pretty damned sexy.

_Wait...what? _

_'Yer orderly friends call me Sexta, er six, but mah name's Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Nice ta meet ya...Ichigo.'_

Ichigo jolted as if he'd been electrocuted. _How the fuck did this voice know his fucking name?_

_'That's mah little secret.'_

Again Ichigo jumped. He was quite certain he hadn't said anything. _At least...not out loud._

_What the fuck was going on?_

_'Dontcha wanna come find out, Berry? I'm kinda itchin' ta see whatcha look like anyway,'_ the gruff baritone persuaded.

Ichigo shook his head almost frantically._ He knew better than that. This was the room Dr. Grantz had warned him about, he was sure of it. He wasn't even supposed to be near this place._

"I-I'm not supposed to do that, Grimmjow. You should know that," Ichigo responded quietly.

That sexy chuckle floated through his mind again, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, _'Ya always follow the rules, Berry?'_

Ichigo scowled at the nickname and the statement. _Of course he didn't always follow the rules. Hell, if that was the case, he wouldn't be there in the first place._

_'Ya see? Tell ya what, Berry, I'm feelin' real generous-like. If I promise not ta try an' escape, will ya come in an' see me?'_ Grimmjow asked, his deep voice a low, soothing rumble.

Ichigo glanced nervously at the security pad beside the door labeled "6" and worried his bottom lip. He shifted his weight to his right foot and sighed.

_This was wrong. _

_This was extremely wrong, but he had to admit, his curiosity was winning out against his morals._

_Big time._

Besides, if Grimmjow was as sexy as his voice sounded, maybe it would be worth a look-see._ Maybe_.

_'Heh, thanks for the compliment, Berry. Yers ain't bad either. So, whataya say?'_

Ichigo blushed furiously and scowled darkly, "How the fuck are you doing that?" he shouted, a bit peeved.

Grimmjow chuckled again, this time a little louder, _'I told ya, that's a secret, but maybe I'll tell ya if ya come see me. I get real lonely in here, ya know?'_

"Fuck!" Ichigo hissed in frustration. "I could lose my fucking job! I need this job!"

_'Who's Karin?'_

"Look, asshole! Stay outta my goddamned head!"

_'Oi, calm down, Berry. Ya won't lose yer job, but ya gotta hurry. The ice bitch is only gonna be gone for an hour,'_ Grimmjow's silky voice caressed Ichigo's mind like a satin sheet.

Ichigo glanced around wildly, trying his hardest to come up with an answer to this madness. He had completely lost the urge to relieve himself and instead, only wanted to see what this man looked like. He wanted to understand how Grimmjow managed to get inside his head the way he did.

"Fine," he whispered in defeat, "but you can't try to escape! Fuck, what the hell am I saying? You'll just do whatever the hell you want anyway, right?"

_'Nah, I'm a man a'mah word. Got nowhere ta go anyway. So, what're ya gonna do?'_

Ichigo bit his bottom lip and clutched his ID card. _God, he was so going to get fired, but...he had to know. _

_He had to see._

His hand was poised over the security pad, when a thought occurred to him, "Wh-what about the security cameras? Won't they see me?"

Grimmjow outright laughed and this time, Ichigo could hear it through the door, even though it was muffled, _'They don't put cameras in mah wing anymore. It doesn't do any good.'_

_What the fuck?_

Ichigo gulped and before he lost his nerve, swiped his ID through the security pad. The neon green light blinked and a lock was thrown, the white, metal door swinging open silently. His breathing picked up and his heart sounded similar to the drumline of a marching band. His palms were slick with perspiration and his throat and mouth were incredibly dry.

_In short, he was fucking petrified._

The door swung open, revealing a small, padded room. The small space was dark, but the light from the hallway somewhat illuminated the wall directly across from Ichigo. At first, he didn't see anything, but once his eyes adjusted, his breath was taken away and all he could do was gape at the man seated on the floor, leaning against the padded wall.

Wild, bright blue hair stuck up in untamed spikes, while a few stubborn tendrils fell across his brow. Half-lidded, electric blue eyes gleamed back at Ichigo, amusement shining in their depths and a perfect mouth was turned up into a wide, devilish smirk, abnormally sharp canines prominently displayed. The man's arms were pulled back in a white straitjacket and he also wore the customary blue scrubs, his feet bare.

Ichigo shivered violently. _Should a mentally unstable person be THAT fucking gorgeous?_

Grimmjow's smile faltered and his ocean-blue eyes darkened menacingly, "I ain't fuckin' mentally unstable, Berry. Watch it," he growled.

Ichigo felt his eyes widen, but he nodded all the same. _For some reason, this man screamed danger. He thought about backing out of the room and hightailing it back to the main corridor, but he still needed answers. Like how the fuck Grimmjow was able to obviously hear his fucking thoughts_.

Grimmjow grinned and leaned his head back against the wall, "Ya seem a bit frustrated there, Berry. Wanna talk about it?"

"Why don't you just read my mind, Professor X," Ichigo retorted.

"Wahahaha! I like ya, ya know? Those other orderlies were so fuckin' borin'. Yer much more..." at this Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, "...entertainin'."

Ichigo scowled, trying hard not to allow his disdainful frown to turn into a childish pout as he folded his arms across his chest. "You gonna tell me or what? I can leave, you know."

Grimmjow arched a slender, blue brow, pausing briefly before he pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his weight against the wall. He slowly eased up the wall and stood to his full height, which, truthfully, made Ichigo's mouth water and his knees quake.

_He was fucking TALL._

Grimmjow stalked towards him and didn't stop until he was barely a foot away. Ichigo estimated the man's height to be around 6'3" and his body was extremely formidable as well. _How a straitjacket-clad man managed to stay as...muscular and fit as Grimmjow did was beyond him._ It was obvious from the incredibly broad shoulders and thick arms, not to mention those ridiculously long legs.

_Fuck._

"Yer mind's like an open book, Berry. I can hear everything," Grimmjow murmured, leaning his upper body closer to Ichigo. "Ya smell good. Been a long time since I smelled somethin' I actually liked."

Ichigo felt a strong shudder wrack his slim frame. _This man was absolutely lethal._

"Uh, um, thanks. A-are you gonna tell me h-how you're reading my thoughts, now?"

Grimmjow's grin spread, his canines giving Ichigo goosebumps, "Sure. On one condition."

"Condition? I thought me coming in here was the condition?"

"I got the answers ya want, so I make the rules, Berry. Jus' the way it goes."

Ichigo tried unsuccessfully to glare at the beautiful, blue-haired man, but what he managed was a wary stare. Grimmjow's blue brow went up again as he cocked his head to the side.

"Well?" the taller man asked.

Ichigo sucked his teeth in frustration, "What is it?" he snapped, annoyed.

"Ya gotta kiss me."

_Nani?_

"What? Wh-what are you talking about? I-I'm not gonna kiss you!"

Grimmjow shrugged those broad shoulders and rocked back on his heels, "Guess ya don't want yer answers."

Ichigo pursed his lips in thought._ The man was testing him, he just knew it, but the man was also the most gorgeous being he'd ever seen in his life. One kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?_

"Ya keep thinkin' like that an' I might do more n'kiss ya, Berry," Grimmjow rumbled.

_Fuck, his voice was insanely hot._

"Mmhm. Thanks."

Ichigo face-palmed. _He had to watch what he was fucking thinking around this guy_. He blew out an exasperated sigh and wrinkled his nose.

"Fine, fuck it. I'll do it," he ground through clenched teeth, brown eyes pinning Grimmjow with a fierce glare.

The blunet's sinister grin grew to epic proportions as he leaned forward again, "I want some tongue, too. I wanna see if ya taste as good as ya smell."

Ichigo knew his face was on fire from the intense burning spreading over his cheeks, down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. Blood hurried to his groin and his belly quivered excitedly.

_Fuck, this was extremely bad._

He leaned forward, standing on his toes to meet Grimmjow halfway and was absolutely blown away by the soft lips that pressed against his. His body tingled and everything went up in a blaze.

_He was crazy. That was the only explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior._

Ichigo settled his hands on the man's slim waist as a thick, hot tongue swept across his bottom lip. His fingers tightened on Grimmjow's scrubs and he opened his mouth, allowing the probing tongue to invade his overheated cavern.

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

The taller man growled softly and deepened the kiss, exploring the inside of Ichigo's mouth aggressively. Grimmjow sucked the shorter man's tongue into his mouth, then gently nipped his bottom lip upon releasing the wet appendage.

Ichigo pulled back and gasped for air. This was so wrong, but it felt so fucking amazing. Grimmjow smirked down at him and licked his lips slowly.

"Berry, lemme outta this straitjacket," he requested, his voice husky.

Ichigo shook his head, trying to free himself from his lusty stupor, "Th-that wasn't the agreement. How do I know you won't try to kill me, or escape, or something?" he asked breathlessly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Tch, I ain't goin' anywhere. I jus' wanna touch ya. Yer skin looks so soft, it's really temptin' me, ya know?"

"Who says I want you to touch me?" Ichigo returned snarkily.

Grimmjow just chortled, "He does," he stated, pointing with his chin towards Ichigo's nether regions. Ichigo glanced down and cringed.

_Uwaahh! He was hard as a cinder block and hadn't even noticed!_

"Shutup! That's not the point! I don't trust you!"

Grimmjow sighed exasperatedly, "Have I hurt ya yet?" Ichigo slowly shook his head. "Well, then, ya've got nothin' ta worry 'bout."

Ichigo blew out a frustrated breath and glared at Grimmjow once again, "If you kill me, I'll haunt you forever!" he snapped, knowing he sounded positively ridiculous.

The blue-haired man gave a loud bark of laughter before pinning Ichigo with a smoldering look, "Sounds promisin'."

"Urrgh, fuck you!"

"That sounds even better."

"Just shutup! Come here," Ichigo muttered as he reached for the straps and buckles holding Grimmjow's arms pressed against his abdomen.

His mind whirred frantically, while he undid the restraints and once they were all loosened, he guided the jacket off of the taller man. Grimmjow grinned widely, canines gleaming dangerously as he rubbed his arms. He wore a form-fitting, white t-shirt that just barely managed to reach his hips and Ichigo found it hard not to drool all over the place.

_Christ Almighty_.

"So! Tell me! No more rules and shit!" Ichigo snapped, getting extremely nervous now that the predatory man was free from his cage.

Grimmjow rotated his shoulders and cracked his neck, "Have ya wondered why they keep me in a straitjacket?" he asked softly, his voice low and frightening.

Ichigo gulped and nodded, "Y-yeah."

A strong-looking, tanned hand was lifted, index and middle fingers extended, "Lemme show ya."

Before Ichigo could even THINK about blinking, his body was flung against the west wall and pinned there by some unseeable force.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he screeched.

Grimmjow gave an evil smirk and ambled towards him, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Berry, yer too fuckin' trustin'. Now, don't worry, I ain't gonna kill ya, but ya might not wanna let yer guard down again."

"Wh-what did you...h-how the fuck are you doing this?"

"Ya see, Berry, I'm what ya'd call...special. I have a gift. I'm a telepath and I can hear other people's thoughts. C'n even manipulate 'em if I wanted. That's why ya could hear me in yer head. People don't understand mah gift, so they fear me instead. Buncha sheep, ya ask me. But anyway, they keep me locked in here with the thought that it'll keep the public "safe". They're idiots," Grimmjow calmly explained, still pinning Ichigo to the wall.

"Why are you in here?"

"Killed some people. They weren't very nice, pokin' me with needles and hookin' me up to these strange-lookin' machines. Then there were those that just altogether shunned me 'cuz a'mah looks and mah gift."

"Y-you killed people?" Ichigo asked incredulously, his voice rising an octave.

_What the fuck had he done? He'd let loose a killer!_

"Yeah. S'not a big deal, though, Berry. They weren't good people."

"N-not a big deal? You KILLED people! How the fuck is that not a big deal?"

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, the blue glittering like sapphires, "So, I shoulda let 'em damn near kill me instead, 'sat what ya sayin'?" he growled, the air in the small room growing heavy and tense.

Ichigo pursed his lips in thought. _He knew for a fact that had he been in Grimmjow's shoes, he probably would've ended up in Las Noches as well_. Slowly, he shook his head, "No."

As Ichigo watched Grimmjow's slight frown disappear and a smirk take its place, he knew for a fact that he'd just sealed his fate. _There was something about the blue-haired man that scared and turned him on at the same time, and damned if he didn't want to figure out what exactly it was._

**Next chapter will be Grimmjow POV. Thanks for reading! xD**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Wanna thank hello hello, an anonymous reviewer, for opening my eyes to the fact that FFnet is an open field full of opportunities, where nothing is sacred. I will write accordingly. (bows) Thank you. Oh yeah, take a gander at a piece of my new writing anthem, Let It Rock...**

_Because when I arrive_

_I, I'll bring the fire_

_Make you come alive_

_I can take you higher_

_What this is, forgot?_

_I must now remind you_

_Let it rock_

_I wish I could be_

_As cruel as you_

_And I wish I could say_

_The things you do_

_But I can't and I won't live a lie_

_No, not this time_

_-Kevin Rudolf-_

Onwards...

XOXOXOXO

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side and studied the wary strawberry pinned to the wall of the small, padded room, "Good," he muttered absently.

With his free hand, he reached up and fingered a short tendril of that alarmingly bright orange hair and grinned at the expression Ichigo made.

_He was so stupid, it was cute_.

_Made him want to do things he'd been itching to do since they locked him away in this torture chamber_.

..._what the hell is he thinking?_...

This widened his smirk as he peered down into sultry, brown eyes, wide with an almost palpable fear, "Ya sure ya wanna know somethin' like that, Berry? Might jus' scar yer innocent lil' brain," he mumbled, electric blue eyes avidly following the motion of Ichigo licking his lips nervously.

"What are you going to do to me?" the strawberry asked, gaze darting to the open door of the white room.

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and focused on the berry head's thoughts.

..._is he gonna kill me? He's probably gonna try to escape_...

He snorted, the soft sound turning into a quiet snicker, "Yeah, sorry I lied ta ya, but...well, ya unnerstan' right?"

Ichigo scowled, but nodded slowly. _Boy, was this orange head strange_. He didn't react the way any normal person would in this situation. Grimmjow expected screaming, angry accusations, venomous exclamations...something other than quiet contemplation and acceptance. It made his skin crawl with an unfamiliar sensation.

..._shit. I can still taste him_...

Grimmjow jolted as if he'd been shocked. _Hell, in a sense he had_. He certainly hadn't been expecting to hear something like that in this instance, but then again, Ichigo was different. He smirked and leaned closer to the smaller man, inhaling his intoxicating scent that reminded him distinctly of the outside.

_Freedom_.

_And fresh laundry_.

..._what is he doing?_...

"Calm down, Berry. I already told ya I ain't gonna kill ya, but if yer heart keeps beatin' like that and ya keep breathin' like that, I might be tempted ta."

Ichigo's breath choked to a stop as he tried his hardest not to breathe or move. Grimmjow grinned and gave the orange head a long, languid lick to the side of his soft-skinned neck._ Ichigo was so fucking tempting_. Grimmjow hadn't felt this excited around someone in a long time...in fact, now that he thought about it, he'd never been this excited around someone before.

The strawberry's muscles twitched and jumped, only sending the urge to subdue, skyrocketing through the roof. He wanted to squeeze the breath from the kid, watching as his fiery eyes dulled and the life left his lean, alluring body. He especially wanted to see the boy's blood. Grimmjow could practically hear it rushing through the kid's veins and...

..._what the hell is this door doing open?_...

_Fuck_.

"Well, Berry, gotta go now. Think of me sometime, yeah?" he stated and before Ichigo could even react properly, he applied pressure to a point in his neck, causing the head full of orange hair to hang listlessly to the side. Luckily, Grimmjow still held him pressed to the wall and once he made sure the kid was totally unconscious, he lowered the prone form to the floor, then turned to face the door.

_Someone was coming_.

A short guy with ash-white hair appeared in the doorway and Grimmjow sneered. _Fucking D-Roy_. He hated the little prick with a fearsome passion. The little bastard always thought he was better than everyone and had even gone as far as kicking Grimmjow while he'd been sedated.

_This was gonna be so fun_.

He grinned and started humming as he cracked his knuckles, savoring the look of wide-eyed astonishment on the guard's face. Dark eyes were locked with his, fear rolling off of the slighter body before him. The white uniform D-Roy wore made him nearly blend in with the wall he was currently pressed flat against. His breathing was erratic and sweat was beading across his forehead.

..._what the hell is he doing out of his straitjacket?...wait...who's the guy on the floor?...is he dead?...oh shit!_...

"Yeah, this ain't yer night D-buddy," Grimmjow rumbled before continuing to hum.

_He always did like a good soundtrack when he killed someone_.

..._what the hell is he humming?...fuck...maybe I can reach my_...

D-Roy's hand was edging towards his waist, making Grimmjow growl under his breath and storm up to the idiot. He wasn't even going to use his ability on someone as weak and pointless as this guy; he would use his bare hands and relish the feeling.

He stalked up to the shorter man and grabbed his throat, snarling viciously, "Ya put yer filthy lil' paws on me before. Think I fergot?"

D-Roy gasped and gripped his wrist, struggling to free himself from his iron grasp. Grimmjow sucked his teeth and gave the white-haired guard a swift shake, strong enough to cause whiplash. Saliva flew and disgusted him, making him shake the man again.

"Would ya stop that? It's fuckin' gross!"

D-Roy sputtered unintelligibly, eyes rolling up into his head as his mouth opened and closed, trying to draw nonexistent air.

..._h-help me!...Please!...Somebody!_...

Grimmjow snickered and shook him again just for the hell of it and because he liked the way the guy looked when his head snapped back and forth that way. This time, there was a sickening crack before D-Roy stopped moving completely.

_Shit_.

Grimmjow peered down into the now lifeless face of the guard and sucked his teeth in disappointment. _Well, that was just no fun at all. He'd thought the guy would last longer than that. _

_Oh, well_.

He dropped D-Roy's body to the ground, fished the man's ID from his pocket and turned back to the motionless strawberry. He grinned and made his way to the kid's side, studying the peaceful face. Ichigo was pretty beautiful and that was unnerving. He could deal with handsome, hell, even lovely, but not downright beautiful. It made him feel like a bull in a glass house, like he was on the verge of destroying something very precious.

He reached forward and grasped the blue string resting against Ichigo's neck that held his ID. He brushed his fingers over the soft skin, allowing only a moment's distraction before he lifted the ID over the strawberry's head. Running a hand through those silky, bright orange locks, he sighed.

_Ichigo was an enigma, for sure_.

Grimmjow fisted the ID and quickly left the small room he'd been confined to for way too long. He stepped into the hall and went to stand before padded room three, smiling as the thoughts of the man being held inside filtered into his mind.

..._one mississippi...two mississippi...three mississippi_...

Giving a quiet chuckle, he swiped the ID card through the security pad and waited for the heavy, white door to swing open. Once it did, he blinked into the darkness, trying to focus on one of his best friends. His eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting behind him and he watched a blond head slowly raise, dark, hooded eyes focusing on him intently.

"Well...this is a nice surprise," the man drawled, cocking his head to the side and shifting beneath the confines of his straitjacket.

"Toldja we wouldn' be here long. Ya ready ta get outta this shit hole?" he asked as he padded over to his friend and helped him to his feet.

"Been ready. Was waitin' on yer slow ass."

Grimmjow chuckled and released the man from the straitjacket, throwing the offending article to the floor in a huff, "We still gotta get Shiro and Corky out. Ya know, I was thinkin'-"

"Uh-oh," the blond muttered as he dusted off his blue scrubs and straightened his white t-shirt.

"Fuck you, Blondie! I ain't gotta listen ta that!" he snapped, immediately insulted.

The blond gave a saucy smirk, piano-key toothed grin reaching his ears before his expression suddenly went slack, "Don' call me Blondie. I gotta name, dumbass."

"Oh, mah mistake..._Shinji-kun_," Grimmjow mocked. "Now, like I said, I was thinkin' 'stead a'jus' lettin' out Shiro and Corky, we could let all a'these fuckers out. Really get under that pink-haired prick's skin."

He watched as Shinji left the small room before him and headed towards their other friends' cells. He was still waiting for a response when the blond paused at what used to be his cell, shaking his head condescendingly.

"They both dead er what?"

"No!" Grimmjow barked defensively. "I left the one with orange hair alive!"

Shinji turned to face him, eyes skeptical, "Why would ya do somethin' like that? Leniency ain't in yer vocabulary."

"Well, I repay mah debts. S'all I'm gonna say."

"Whatever. Ya must wanna fuck him er somethin'," Shinji muttered before continuing past the white room.

Grimmjow followed silently and sullenly, glancing one last time at the strawberry still lying on the floor unconscious. _He hated the fact that Shinji was right, but he would never admit it_. They traveled through the winding hall until they reached Shiro's and Ulquiorra's wing.

Shiro was pressed against the glass, ash-white hair and pale skin gleaming under the fluorescent lighting of his cell and wide grin plastered across his features as he watched Grimmjow and Shinji approach, "Bout fuckin' time, six! Almos' thought ya changed yer mind!" he shouted gleefully.

Grimmjow allowed a smirk to crease his face as he swiped Ichigo's ID through the security pad beside Shiro's door. _The fucker was an idiot, but also one of his best friends_. "Ya know better'n that, Saki-chan," he crooned, knowing the nickname would infuriate the albino.

Said albino stuck out a dark tongue and rolled his strange eyes, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, call me what ya want. Just make sure ya get me the fuck outta this thing!"

Shinji sucked his teeth and put a hand on a narrow hip, "Well, aren't ya jus' the grateful one!"

"C'mon, Shin-chan, I been itchin' ta get outta this thing! C'n ya blame me?" Shiro whined, to which Grimmjow snickered.

_It was nice having the old family together again_.

Shiro practically bounced over to him and turned his back so Grimmjow could undo the restraints on the straitjacket. Shirosaki was like a tornado, ripping up everything in his path and causing huge amounts of destruction; wild and untamed, with no concept of boundaries, except when it came to their small group of misfits.

Once the straitjacket was taken off, Shiro skipped out of his cell and they all made their way to the next one, where Ulquiorra sat staring at them from the back of his cell. He was seated on the floor wearing a bland expression and Grimmjow frowned. He'd thought the petite, dark-haired man would at least be happy to see them.

"The fuck, Corky, ain't ya glad ta see us?" he snapped.

Emerald green eyes landed on him and twinkled, the only sign of life in an otherwise dead countenance. Grimmjow now knew the truth. Ulquiorra rarely showed emotion and when he did, it meant someone had REALLY pissed him off, or REALLY made him happy.

"Much better," he sang and moved to unlock Ulquiorra's cell.

The process was repeated and as Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were leaving the cell, they were frozen in their tracks by the sight of the pink-haired director and reason they were put into this place to begin with. Grimmjow growled deeply in his chest and fisted his hands at his sides, unaware of a sniggering Shinji. He lifted his hand and pinned the director to the stone wall of the hall and stalked up to him, ready to cut off his air supply and end his miserable life then and there.

And then, he was staring into the eyes of Shiro, "Shit, six, it's me!" he yelped. "I was just testin' out mah mojo! Hadda make sure it still worked, ya know?"

Grimmjow blinked, mind still in fight mode. _What the fuck?_ Golden irises stared worriedly back at him and he began to realize that his idiot best friend had only used his gift, making him _appear_ as the hated pink-haired director. He let the albino drop to the floor and snarled, "Why'd ya pick him of all people? I coulda killed yer ass!"

Shiro cackled and rubbed his chest where the invisible pressure from Grimmjow's telekinesis had forced him against the wall as he climbed to his feet, "Made it more convincin'. Looks like yer abilities're workin' jus' fine, though."

He didn't even grace the baka with a reply as he whirled on his heel and stalked away, angrily muttering under his breath.

"Yer a dumbass, Shiro," Shinji uttered as they made their way towards the main hall of Las Noches.

"Aww, c'mon, it was funny!"

"Fool," Ulquiorra dryly commented.

They trekked through the winding halls of Las Noches before finally emerging into the main corridor that housed the security booth. Thankfully, that blonde bitch, Halibel, was nowhere to be found just yet. Grimmjow turned to face Ulquiorra and pointed towards a large fuse box at the end of the hall, "Ya think ya can wipe out the power in this joint from there?"

Ulquiorra glared at him before silently moving off towards the indicated fuse box, several of the inmates calling out to him as he passed. He would take that as a "yes". If Ulquiorra could shut the power, he wouldn't need to go cell to cell freeing the inmates because everything would be temporarily disabled until the back-up generator fired up, leaving the cells unlocked.

He glanced at Shinji, who appeared to be waiting for something. "Oi, ya wanna take the rest of Hueco Mundo? That should be easy enough, but if not, take the idiot with ya. We gotta get these people outta here before that generator comes on," Grimmjow stated gruffly.

Shinji rolled his dark eyes and grinned, "What makes ya think I wanna take the dummy with me?" he retorted.

Shiro interjected hotly, "Fuck both of ya! I ain't no fuckin' idiot OR dummy! Bastards," he ended with a grunt as he pushed past Shinji to the huge, metal door and waited for the power to shut off.

Grimmjow chuckled and rubbed his hands together, "Remember, once the power goes off, there's only gonna be like five minutes before that generator comes on, so we gotta hustle. Corky an' me'll meet up with ya after we finish up here."

"Whatever," Shinji said and snatched Ichigo's ID from where Grimmjow had stashed it in his back pocket.

"OI! Give that back!" he shouted, nearly in a panic as he reached out for the tiny, white card. _He'd wanted to keep it as a memento of the strawberry, but if Shinji took it, he would probably never see it again_.

"Calm down, stupid! I'm just unlockin' this door so me an' Shiro c'n get a headstart," the blond snapped irritatedly as he turned and swiped the ID through the security pad. He turned back with a smirk and tossed the piece of plastic back to him, "Toldja ya wanted ta fuck him." And with that, he and Shiro disappeared behind the door.

Grimmjow sneered and imitated Shinji's last words, jumping when the lights suddenly blinked off, plunging the corridor into darkness. He grinned and started forward to help release the remaining inmates of Las Noches.

_He could practically smell the outside already_.

XOXOXOXO

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Ichigo leaned his elbow on the counter of the raised platform where the cash register was located and sighed out of sheer boredom.

_He HATED this job, but it was way better than his old job at the mental institute_.

A strong shudder wracked his body as he recalled his experience on the evening the place was basically shut down and put out of business. He still couldn't believe he'd done what he had. At the time, it had seemed reasonable, not to mention, his curiosity had certainly overridden every fiber of morale he'd possessed. Now, every time he thought about that night, he wanted to face-palm and hide in a corner somewhere. It was so humiliating that he'd been used and nearly killed by a very insane man.

_Grimmjow Jaegerjaques_.

Ichigo would never be able to forget that name for as long as he lived.

_Or the man's face, for that matter_.

Aside from the degrading spectacle with Grimmjow, Ichigo was confused. He'd awakened in his own family clinic, wondering why the hell he wasn't in jail for basically releasing an extremely dangerous and unstable man into the unsuspecting public. What was more, his boss had been there, waiting to "speak to him privately". Dr. Grantz had informed him that he and the others in charge of Hueco Mundo wished to keep the recent events confidential, meaning Ichigo couldn't say anything about what turned out to be a mass escape. _Ah, that was why he wasn't locked away in prison_.

_Grimmjow hadn't only let himself out; he'd let everyone out._

_Fuck_.

Ichigo had agreed simply because the alternative was him being locked away in a cell of his very own and quite frankly, he didn't want that. _He could keep his mouth shut_. Although, on the other hand, the thought of all those frightening patients being loose on the streets of Karakura was enough to give him heartburn and a ton of nightmares.

_Especially the thought of a free Grimmjow._

_That just wasn't right at all_.

What he really wanted to know, was why Dr. Grantz insisted on keeping the escape under wraps. _Wouldn't it be better to inform the authorities, rather than having a large amount of mentally unstable people on the loose?_ He couldn't wrap his mind around it, so he chose not to dwell on it.

His old man hadn't even questioned his sudden loss of a job, which only served to make him feel even more guilty. He knew he was the reason a whole mess of crazy motherfuckers were once again living amongst the rest of the population, but on top of that, he'd had to worry about finding another job as soon as possible.

_They still needed to get Karin her surgery_.

Which brought him to his present predicament of being bored to tears at a local convenience store. He turned and started rearranging the gum, condom, cigarette and other miscellaneous items displays. The store was your everyday convenience store, equipped with bright, fluorescent lighting, a few aisles of random grocery supplies and a refrigerated section that held beer, wine and other sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Ichigo's spot was the raised platform at the front of the establishment. He manned the register and made sure things were in order and again managed to work the third shift.

_How lucky_.

He leaned against the counter again, this time placing his head in his hand, while sighing deeply.

As hard as he tried, his mind always seemed to unconsciously wander to thoughts of the dangerous, yet disgustingly beautiful blue-haired lunatic. Thoughts of how tall the man was, how soft his lips were, how utterly WARM the man's body had been, and certainly not lastly, how bone-melting his baritone voice was. Thinking of it sent shivers rocketing down his spine, while his insides shook like an arthritic joint.

_Fuck_.

Ichigo just couldn't shake the images that bombarded him whenever he was still for more than a nanosecond. _Which was ridiculous, but absolutely true_. He closed his eyes and flashes of wild, bright blue hair or unhinged, sapphire blue eyes would flood him. He couldn't for the life of him forget that sinister smirk or that deliciously muscular body. _He dreamt about him for Christ's sake!_ They were mostly nightmares of him being tortured before slowly being killed, but then there were the times he found himself waking, covered in sweat, shaking like a leaf and hard as a jawbreaker. Those dreams confused and angered him because all he wanted to do was forget about the dangerous patient.

_Shit_.

He couldn't wait to get home for the morning and get some rest. He was also scared to death that one of these days, he would run into one of the former inmates of Hueco Mundo, namely one Grimmjow Jaegerjaques.

XOXOXOXO

Grimmjow stood under the safety of a large tree, nonchalantly chewing on a thick wad of watermelon flavored bubble gum. The wind was being especially cantankerous that night as it whipped through his bright blue hair and tried to penetrate the warmth of his form-fitting, black, leather jacket. He wore a black hoodie underneath, careful to extract the hood in case he wanted to use it, a form-fitting, black t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of black Timberland construction boots, loosely tied.

He had his hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he leaned against the rough trunk of an old cherry blossom tree. He blew a bright green bubble, allowing the gum to stretch as far as his nose and chin before popping it. His ocean blue eyes were riveted to the small store across the street, where he spied the young man named Ichigo, standing at the front counter wearing a bored expression.

Ever since his escape from Hueco Mundo, he'd been unable to shake the impression that that damned kid had left on him. _Not to mention, that damned kiss_. He had never wanted to fuck AND kill someone as badly as he wanted to with Ichigo. It was fucking aggravating, but he couldn't help himself. So, he'd ended up using Corky's resourcefulness to find Ichigo's home address and once that had been done, it had been child's play following the kid wherever he went.

Grimmjow liked watching the berry head; it made him feel giddy and excited, but at the same time, like he was hunting, which was always good, in his opinion. Shiro and Shinji laughed at him because he'd hung Ichigo's Hueco Mundo ID on his wall beside an Avril Lavigne poster.

_He didn't care. Screw them anyway_.

He shifted in his spot, enjoying the way the bright lights of the store illuminated Ichigo's hair. He blew another bubble and scratched behind his ear; he was getting restless. _Not a good sign_._ He still had a full three hours before the strawberry was due to leave_. He was just about to go for a short walk, when a slight motion in the alley beside the store made him narrow his eyes and halt his steps.

He watched as two men wearing face masks crept around the side of the building, sticking to the shadows. They were holding weapons and the shorter man in front was carrying a small duffel bag. Grimmjow growled as he realized what the men intended to do.

_Only he was allowed to harm the berry head_.

He stepped out of the shadow of the tree and started across the street, grinning and singing softly as he threw his hood over his head, "Ya got designer shades, just ta hide yer face and ya wear 'em around like yer cooler than me."

**Thanks to my beta, Sonbon, as always!**

**Conscience: Well, Racey, what you gon' do now?**

**Me: Whatever I wanna do GOSH, it's cool now!**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Oh, wow, I'm feeling really Austin Power-ish 'cuz I think I've got my mojo back. XD Enjoy!**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_You should never argue with a crazy motherfucker_

_You oughta know by now (by now, by now)_

_Hey, you should never argue with a crazy motherfucker_

_Gotta get you ya money_

_-Unknown- _

XOXOXO

Grimmjow secured his black hood over his head of bright blue hair, grinning maniacally as he crossed the street towards the men edging towards the corner of the store where his strawberry obliviously waited. _What was with the boy and working so late at night anyway? Didn't he realize that that shift was just asking for trouble? _

The men paused at the mouth of the alley beside the building, warily glancing around for witnesses. The one in the front was rather bulky, but kind of short. Grimmjow couldn't see faces because of the masks they wore, but he could clearly see a pair of dark eyes roaming the deserted street. He could also see the man behind the one leading and carrying a small, black duffel bag because he was taller and slimmer. His eyes were a soothing shade of brown, but had nothing on the eyes Grimmjow had on his mind constantly. Grimmjow lifted a hand and froze both men in their tracks, two pairs of eyes widening in fright.

"What the hell?" the man in front shouted.

Grimmjow ambled up to them and walked around them in a slow circle. The men were suspended in mid-air and it reminded him of the cartoons Shirosaki watched, where the characters would run off a cliff, but right before they plummeted, they seemed to freeze. _Fucking hilarious. Especially that dumb shit of a coyote. Man, that roadrunner was a genius_.

"Who the fuck're you?" the slim one asked in a gruff tone, startling Grimmjow from his musings. _Rude fucker_.

"Nah, see ya don't get ta ask ME questions 'cuz only I get ta do the talkin' right now," he returned, spitting out the huge wad of gum in his mouth.

He rooted around in his pocket for a moment, looking for more and sucked his teeth in annoyance when none turned up. _Oh, well. He'd just have to get another pack. And looky, looky, he was right near a nice little convenience store_. The thought of confronting Ichigo made his dick nearly jump out of his jeans in anticipation.

"The hell we don't!" Shorty snapped, making Grimmjow jump. _Shit, he was really distracted_.

He walked another slow circle around the suspended men before stopping behind them. He flicked his wrist and began moving, leading them back into the alley they emerged from, mind conjuring ways to torture them for even THINKING they had the right to touch his strawberry. _Idiots, they were_.

Grimmjow stopped moving once he felt that no one would hear the two men screaming and if they did, they wouldn't pay it any mind. This area wasn't about to win any awards for safety any time soon. Grimmjow pinned the men to the wall and allowed his grin to return. Just when he was feeling antsy, he got a nice little activity to keep him somewhat occupied. The men were watching him the way a mouse watched a snake approach: with a sort of inevitable dread. Ever watch a glass dish fall from the edge of a counter while you were on the other side of the room, too far to catch it before it hit the floor? Yeah, well, that's how these two idiots watched him. Grimmjow had become their falling dish. The thought made him laugh uproariously aloud, making his victims give him a look of incredulity.

"Nah, I was jus' thinkin' somethin' funny!" he crowed. "My bad!"

"Crazy bastard," Shorty spat and all humor drained from Grimmjow as quickly as if someone had flushed a toilet.

He felt a huge wave of anger crashing over him as he glared at Shorty, "Crazy, huh?" he asked lowly.

Shorty at least had the sense to widen his eyes at the tone of Grimmjow's voice, but there was no redeeming himself from that statement. Grimmjow hated that word with a passion. _He wasn't fucking crazy_.

"I got yer crazy," he growled lividly, raising his free hand and using it to pin Shorty's friend to the alley wall.

Grimmjow turned the hand holding Shorty up into an imitation of strangulation. Shorty's eyes bugged as his hands twitched and shook, trying to reach up and pry the invisible force from his throat, but Grimmjow held him immobile, "Does it hurt yet?" he sneered.

Shorty choked and wheezed, saliva forming in the corners of his mouth as his eyes began to roll back into his head.

..._c-can't breathe_..._h-help_...

Grimmjow grinned wickedly, enjoying the sight and sound of the man leaving this world for good. _No one called him crazy and walked away from it. No one_. He began singing softly, "Shh, see I got ya all figured out. Ya need everyone's eyes just ta feel seen."

..._oh, shit! Junichi!_...

Shorty's tall friend was good and scared now; Grimmjow could see it in his wide, brown eyes, the color only serving to piss him off even more. He felt like the man was trying to insult Ichigo with his cheap imitation and..._well...he just couldn't have that_.

Grimmjow dropped the hand not strangling Shorty and allowed Shorty's friend to fall to the ground. The man's wide eyes grew even wider as he tried to scramble to his feet, no doubt ready to flee. Grimmjow sucked his teeth. _He didn't say the fucker could leave just yet_. He lifted his hand until it blocked Shorty's friend's head from view, then swiftly closed it into a fist. Shorty's friend's head exploded like an apple in a microwave, body slumping against the brick alley wall as blood pooled around the crumpled legs and flowed freely over the sagging shoulders.

Grimmjow grinned, continuing his song where he'd left off, "Behind yer makeup...nobody knows...who ya even are...who d'ya think that ya are?" and turned back to Shorty, only to notice that in his excitement, he'd squeezed maybe a bit too hard because Shorty's head was slumped to the side, unmoving. He was no longer making those delicious little noises as his breath left his body slowly but surely.

_Gotdammit!_

He always got carried away like that when he was excited or pissed off, but he really couldn't help it. He loved seeing the unbridled fear in a person's eyes as he killed them, making them regret ever crossing him. _Shit, he bet Shorty wouldn't be calling anyone else crazy anytime soon_. Then he remembered that Shorty was dead and laughed heartily at his oversight.

Grimmjow allowed Shorty's body to hit the ground in a heavy heap, short legs crumpling beneath it. Grimmjow spied a large, green dumpster a few meters away and decided to clean up his mess for a change. Shinji was always scolding him about being such a "fucking slob", so he lifted both hands and slowly guided the bodies to the dumpster, tossing them inside with a flick of both wrists. There was nothing he could do about the blood left behind, but at least he'd disposed of the bodies.

_There...all done_.

Grimmjow leaned against the wall opposite where the two dead men had previously been and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black, leather jacket. His searching fingers came up empty and he remembered that he needed to buy another pack of his favorite watermelon flavored bubble gum. A feral smirk stole across his features as he pushed away from the wall and headed towards the mouth of the alley, singing quietly, "If I could write ya a song ta make ya...fall in love...I would already have ya up under mah arm."

_He had a date with a strawberry_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo had just finished rearranging the displays behind the counter where he was stationed, when the store's automated doors slid open, admitting a tall man wearing all black, starting with a black, leather jacket with a black hoodie underneath. Both items were worn open, revealing a form-fitting, black t-shirt that hugged the man's broad, muscular torso enticingly.

_What? He could certainly admire another man's body. He'd never claimed being straight_.

The only downside to the show was the black hood thrown over the man's head, blocking any view of what the guy looked like. All Ichigo could see was a slightly pointed chin and the bottom of a strong-looking jaw, the skin tanned and appearing flawless. Ichigo thought the man was probably really attractive when that hood wasn't in the way. He allowed his eyes to roam the rest of the man's appearance, running over black jeans that fit snugly and hung low on slim hips, giving a nice view of the gray waistband of his boxers and the black belt holding up the pants. Ichigo could tell that the man's legs were muscular and they appeared rather long. _Well, of course. The man was tall as hell_. Ichigo could tell that much, even with him being positioned on the raised platform of the front counter. The man was wearing black construction boots on a pair of rather big feet and Ichigo's mind went where it shouldn't have.

_It wasn't his fault his best friend was a girl that had a habit of judging whether a man had a big dick by the size of his hands and feet_.

Nel was a terrible influence on him, but they had been friends since they were in diapers and he wasn't going to disown her now. Besides, sometimes Nel was right about her observations – or at least that's what she told him. _Don't get him wrong, he wasn't a virgin by any means, but he had never based his judgments on those particular appendages before_. This man's feet screamed out for that kind of attention though. They weren't obscenely big, but Ichigo would estimate them to be roughly around a size thirteen. _Hell, he himself only wore a size ten_.

Ichigo continued to watch the man browse the store, hands shoved into the pockets of his black, leather jacket. Then a thought occurred to him. _What if this guy was here to rob him and that was why he was wearing all black WITH his hood thrown over his head?_ Not to mention, the man hadn't removed his hands from his pockets since entering the store and Ichigo was beginning to wonder if it was to conceal a weapon.

_Shit_.

He was beginning to have a mild panic attack that only increased in intensity once the man finished his trek throughout the store and headed to the counter. His heart was on the back of his tongue and his stomach was churning furiously. The man hadn't lifted his head yet, so Ichigo still couldn't see his face. And then the guy was right up at the counter surveying the gum and candy selection located in front of it. Finally, a very large hand was withdrawn from a jacket pocket and sent forward. It returned holding a pack of watermelon flavored bubble gum that was set onto the counter. Then, the man's head lifted a fraction, unveiling a wide, feral smirk with sharper than normal canines exposed.

Ichigo's breathing completely stopped as his head detached from his body and threatened to drift into orbit. _He knew that fucking grin like the back of his hand_. _It haunted his dreams and nightmares on a daily basis, along with the man it belonged to_. Ichigo seriously felt like he was about to piss himself at any moment as his hands began to tremble and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

_What was he doing here? Did he come back to finish what he'd started at Hueco Mundo? Holy shit_..._he hoped not_...

If there had been any doubt left in his mind about who the man before him was, it was scattered to the winds, when the hood was thrown back revealing a mess of bright blue hair and those shining, ocean-blue eyes. Ichigo froze as he stared into the man's hypnotic gaze, afraid to think, breathe, move or even make a sound. He was petrified like those mosquitoes from the prehistoric days that got stuck in balls of tree sap.

"Hey, Berry. Ya miss me?"

Ichigo involuntarily swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing drastically as his eyes widened even further.

_What the fuck should he say?_

Grimmjow arched a brow and leaned on the counter, making Ichigo flinch and step back. The blue-haired man's smirk only widened at the action, "Yer so nervous," he muttered. "I thought we were past that stage in our relationship."

Ichigo finally found his voice, "What relationship? You used me to escape Hueco Mundo!" Suddenly realizing what he was saying, he shut his mouth quickly. _He didn't want Grimmjow to think he was better off dead than as a loose end_.

Grimmjow gave a loud bark of laughter, "Yer just as retarded as ya were back then, ya know that? If I wanted ta kill ya right now, ya'd be dead already. That'd be a waste though 'cuz I ain't get ta play wit' ya the way I really wanna yet. Don' worry though. I will."

With that, Grimmjow placed both hands on the counter and leaped onto and over it in two fluid motions, landing right in front of Ichigo, making him stumble backwards into the cigarette displays behind him, knocking several boxes to the floor. He opened his mouth to scream, but a warm pair of lips settled over his own, swallowing up any noise he would've made. His spine stiffened as Grimmjow gripped his waist and pulled him closer, pressing him against a firm torso. A hot, slick tongue invaded his mouth and all Ichigo could do was sigh as he was overwhelmed by the scent and heat rolling off of the man.

_This was bad_.

His body wouldn't listen to his brain instructing his legs to kick this man where it would REALLY hurt, instead making his hands settle on broad shoulders as his breath left him in a small shudder through his nostrils. One of Grimmjow's hands left his hip and trailed up his back, settling at the base of his neck and twining in the fine hairs there. The taller man angled his head to the side and delved his tongue deeper into Ichigo's mouth, searching and probing every available and not so available crevice, making Ichigo give a helpless groan as his toes curled inside his black Air Forces. His khaki pants got way too tight across his pelvis and sweat was beginning to form under his black, short-sleeved, collared uniform shirt.

He was frightened and turned on at the same time and the combination was ruining his composure. _He didn't know what to do, but his body knew what it wanted and that happened to be the man currently kissing the hell out of him_. Grimmjow pulled away from his mouth and slid his tongue over his jaw, easing his way towards his neck, growling deeply in his chest as he did so. The vibrations sent chills free-falling down Ichigo's back as he arched into the man's touch.

Then, like a douse of ice cold water, Ichigo remembered he was at work and definitely being filmed, so he shoved the bigger man away. The look on Grimmjow's face was enough to make Ichigo inwardly cower, though outwardly he stood his ground. Intense blue eyes, darkened with lust, narrowed at him threateningly.

"Y-you can't keep doing this!" Ichigo snapped, frustrated at his lack of control. _Again_. "I'm at work and I need this job! I have a life that I need to tend to and I can't do that with you getting me fired everywhere I go! Didn't-"

His rant was cut short by a hand wrapping itself tightly around his throat. His eyes widened as he panicked and grabbed Grimmjow's wrist, digging his nails into the skin, trying to get the man to release him. _Needless to say, it didn't work_. Grimmjow absolutely overpowered him with his size and strength.

"Berry, don' tell me what ta do, yeah? It's better that way," the blue-haired man rumbled before abruptly letting his hand fall. Grimmjow stepped away from him and that eerie grin bloomed across his face again, "S'good. I'll be goin' now, but I'll see ya later."

Ichigo watched the man reach into his back pocket and pull out a black, leather wallet. Grimmjow dropped a bill on the counter and stuffed the watermelon bubble gum into the pocket of his jacket before leaping back over the counter. He straightened his clothes and glanced at Ichigo one last time as he threw his hood over his head again. Ichigo felt his muscles slowly unloosening as he went to the counter and watched Grimmjow saunter towards the door as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just leaped the counter of Ichigo's workplace and kissed him into a stupor.

_Fucking asshole_.

Grimmjow threw a hand over his head without looking back, "I heard that," he drawled before continuing out of the store and disappearing into the darkness. Ichigo sagged against the counter and scowled as he massaged his temples with his fingertips.

_That man would surely be the death of him and like a train wreck, he had no idea how to prevent it_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow couldn't keep the idiotic grin he'd been wearing since confronting Ichigo off his face, so instead, he embraced it. He let it consume his features and shine from the very depths of his darkened soul. Ichigo was one tasty little treat and he looked forward to digging his claws completely into him. It had been so arousing to choke and scare the shit out of the berry head, but even more so to kiss him senseless. _And he'd been senseless alright_. Grimmjow had heard his thoughts being shaken around like dice in a Yahtzee game.

_So fun_.

Grimmjow stalked up the driveway of the house he shared with Shinji, Corky and Shiro. The house belonged to Shinji's deceased grandmother, but she'd passed it along to the blond in her will before she passed. It was convenient because no one would really think to look for them there, considering the older woman was Shinji's maternal grandmother, thus having a different surname. Not to mention, Shinji had barely spoken to the woman when she was alive. The only reason Shinji had ended up with the house was because his mother had passed when he was five and Shinji was his grandmother's only surviving relative.

The white house was very westernized and rather large. It had a long gravel drive that wound through the mini-forestation surrounding it, leading to the street that would take one to the rest of the town, a wide, open lawn that used to boast lush, green grass, but now resembled hay more than anything, and a two-car garage positioned beside the white structure. There were four floors in all, starting with a dark and creepy basement that held the furnace and a couple of washing machines and dryers. There was the first floor that housed a nice-sized kitchen, sitting room, bathroom and dining room and then there was the second floor that held four bedrooms and another bathroom. After that, there was the attic, but no one had ventured up there yet.

Grimmjow trudged up the four steps that led to the wrap-around porch and banged on the door when he realized he had forgotten his key. _Shinji would bitch, but ah well, so be it_. The door was thrown open by a widely grinning Shirosaki, who leaned against the door jamb and slowly looked Grimmjow from head to foot. The albino was wearing a black and white, plaid, flannel scarf around his neck, a tight, white wife-beater, black, skinny jeans with a white belt and a pair of high-top, black and white Converse sneakers. Black, rubber wristbands on both wrists completed his look. Shiro grinned and ran a pale hand through his unruly, ash-white hair, his inverted eyes gleaming devilishly.

"Done stalkin' yer strawberry?"

Grimmjow sucked his teeth and shoved past his friend, shrugging out of his jacket, then tossing it onto the couch in the living room as he strode towards the kitchen and the smell of home-cooked food, "I don' fuckin' stalk, dumbass! I hunt."

Shiro cackled in response and tagged along at his heels like an annoying puppy. Grimmjow smirked at the domestic sight that greeted his eyes upon entering the kitchen. Shinji was seated at the long island, grating a large block of mozzarella cheese, while Corky was at the sink, draining pasta for lasagne, the sleeves to his long-sleeved, white, thermal shirt pushed to his elbows. His dark-blue jeans were nearly hanging off his slim hips, only being held up by a red belt and he was barefoot. Shinji was casually dressed in a pale green t-shirt, black basketball shorts and a pair of white, ankle socks.

Corky glanced over his shoulder at him briefly before turning back to his pasta, but Shinji was much more vocal as he paused his grating and turned dark eyes to Grimmjow, "Where the fuck is yer key, dipshit?"

Grimmjow sighed, deciding to ignore his blond friend as he went to the fridge for something cold to drink. He opened the white door and stuck his head inside, but before he could find something suitable, a damp cloth smacked him in the back of his neck, then fell to the floor with a wet flop. He turned back to the perpetrator with a deep scowl, "What the fuck, Shinji? I fergot it!"

"What's the point of havin' it, if yer just gonna ferget it?" Shinji snapped, returning to his grating.

Grimmjow shrugged and slammed the refrigerator door shut, no longer interested in something to drink. He leaned back against the humming appliance and shut his eyes momentarily. Ichigo weighed heavily on his conscience, tempting him to no end._ He couldn't understand why the boy affected him so, but he really wanted to know because it was confusing and fucking frustrating_. Grimmjow wasn't used to being so out of control of his emotions and this new shit with the berry head pissed him off, as well as intrigued him.

"So, ya still stalkin' that orange-haired kid?" Shinji's voice broke the relative silence.

Grimmjow growled under his breath, wondering why everyone seemed to mistake what he was doing for stalking. Rolling his blue eyes open, he focused on Shinji and shook his head condescendingly, "I'm not fuckin' stalkin' him, stupid. I'm huntin'. Get it right," he bit out irritably.

Shinji chortled before returning his eyes to his previous task, "Whatever, Grimmjow."

"Ne, Six, how come ya followin' after that kid anyway?" Shiro asked curiously. At this, Corky once again glanced over his shoulder at him, as if waiting for the answer as well.

Grimmjow shrugged, only one reply coming to him, "He's mine."

The silence that followed his statement lasted for all of four seconds before Shiro was cackling like a hyena and Shinji was snorting like a horse. Corky didn't respond at all, merely turning back to the stove, where he was preparing the lasagne in a medium-sized glass dish. Shinji had left the island to stand beside Corky with a large, blue bowl full of freshly grated, mozzarella cheese that the petite, raven-haired male added to the lasagne mix, along with some heavenly smelling tomato sauce and ricotta cheese.

Grimmjow turned his attention away from Shinji and Corky to observe Shiro withdrawing a switchblade from his back pocket. The albino stabbed the island top and twisted the small blade in a tiny circle, creating a few indentations in the smooth wood. Shinji turned and caught him in the act, smacking him on the back of his head for his desecration of the island.

"The fuck're ya doin', idiot?" Shinji yelped angrily.

Shiro grabbed the back of his head and yelled back, "Ya didn' hafta hit me! Shit! Shin-chan, ya on yer period er somethin'?"

Shinji pointed a slim finger in Shiro's face and snarled, "Ya wanna starve?"

Shiro, having been sufficiently chastised, whimpered and hung his head in defeat, "No."

"Right. Then act like it."

Grimmjow shook his head at his friend's antics and pushed off of the refrigerator. The food wasn't ready yet and he wanted to shower, then change into something more comfortable, so he left the kitchen and headed upstairs to his bedroom after grabbing his leather jacket from the couch where he'd tossed it. The old wooden stairs creaked noisily underfoot as he ascended to the second level of the house, even though they were covered in thick, gray carpeting. His room was located at the end of the hall beside the large bathroom and across the hall from Corky's room, whose door was shut; so was Shinji's, but Shiro's stood wide open, the room looking like a hurricane had just blown through the small space.

Posters of different musical artists littered the white walls, a full-sized, western-styled bed was pushed against the wall in the right corner and the bright red sheets and comforter were splayed across it in disarray. A single wooden dresser and nightstand were the only furniture items, but there was a mess of CDs and DVDs stacked against the wall opposite the bed. Clothes were strewn across the cream-colored carpet of the floor and across the dresser and the small garbage can in the room was on its side beside the dresser, miscellaneous items spilling out.

Grimmjow curled his top lip in disgust and pushed his own bedroom door open. _And Shinji called HIM a slob. The fucking nerve. At least his room was neat and didn't smell like a fucking locker room_. His walls were also white and covered in posters of his favorite artists, as well as Ichigo's Hueco Mundo ID. He had never gotten rid of it and used it as a reference for all of his naughty time activities. His friends didn't know about that last part and he wanted to keep it that way. _If they found out, he would __never hear the end of it_.

His bed was western-styled and queen sized and his comforter and sheets were a midnight-blue. His furniture consisted of a tall, wooden dresser and two, wooden night stands. He also had a bookshelf that was filled with books, CDs, video games and DVDs and beside the bookshelf sat a stand that held his thirty-two inch, flat-screen television and XBOX 360. All of his clothes were folded in his dresser or hanging neatly in his closet and his cream-colored carpet was still cream-colored. Everything was neat and in order; he was almost anal about that. _How dare Shinji call him a fucking slob? Yeah, he had a problem with making a mess when he was killing someone, but that was completely different_.

He hung his jacket in his closet and retrieved a clean towel, stripping down to his boxers and tossing his clothes into his hamper before moving next door to the bathroom. _A hot shower would surely ease the stress of worrying so much about Ichigo_.

**XxxxxxxxX**

After his shower, Grimmjow had returned to his room and slipped into a white t-shirt and purple pajama pants. He'd sat on his bed to watch a little TV before going down for dinner, when the next thing he knew, he'd fallen asleep, sprawled spread-eagle on his bed. A warm, slick sensation was traveling down the left side of his neck and something firm and rough was running up his right side under his t-shirt.

_Was he dreaming?_

Grimmjow slit open a single, blue eye and peeked at his surroundings. His room was dark, but the door was open, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. With that scarce bit of light, he was able to see someone hovering over him and he realized the warm, slick sensation he was feeling on his neck was a tongue. Suddenly, the firm and rough sensation on his side turned out to be a hand, fingers lightly grazing his right nipple.

He lurched up, eyes fully wide as he leaned on his elbows to get a better look at his molester and the sight that met his eyes nearly blew him away. His eyes widened as they locked with warm, syrupy brown. Mouth dry and body taut, Grimmjow ran a hand through short, spiky, tangerine locks in disbelief. He let his hand drop to his side as he stared at his strawberry.

_What the hell was Ichigo doing in his bed?_

Soft lips pressed against his, making all questions evaporate into thin air. Grimmjow grunted and gripped the back of Ichigo's neck, pulling him closer and prying his mouth open. As soon as he slipped his tongue inside, he knew something was completely off. The strawberry smelled strange and he definitely didn't taste the same as he normally did. Grimmjow pulled back and studied the smaller man's face as he tuned into his thoughts.

..._six is so fuckin' whipped_...

Grimmjow tensed and growled loudly.

_Shirosaki_.

He grabbed the albino in disguise by the throat and squeezed unmercifully, making the other man quickly flicker back to his normal appearance, "Ok, ok!" Shiro choked.

Grimmjow snarled and squeezed tighter, "I should kill ya fer that, YA LIL' SHIT!"

Shiro gripped his wrist and tried to pry himself free, but Grimmjow was unwilling to let the idiot go just yet. Before he could do anything further though, Shiro used his free hand to punch the shit out of him, making him blink in surprise at the albino. Grimmjow slowly licked the corner of his mouth, tasting his own blood. Sneering deeply, he launched himself at Shiro, knocking the man backwards as they tumbled to the floor, a tangle of arms and legs.

"What the fuck're ya idiots doin?" Shinji asked from the open doorway, wiping his hands on a yellow dish towel.

Grimmjow was livid. _First the prick tried to trick him with an Ichigo suit and then...then the little bastard HIT him_. _Shiro had to die, friend or not_. Grimmjow reared back and clipped the albino across his jaw, his fist slamming into the carpet when the blow was somewhat dodged. He pulled back to swing again, when everything seemed to start moving in slow motion. His fist no longer flew forward at a high velocity, but rather it crept towards Shiro. Shiro wore a puzzled expression as his fist was slowed as well.

Finally, they both turned (very slowly) to glare at the blond in the doorway. Shinji was lazily holding his hand forward and scowling, "Yer such children," he scolded, dropping his hand once he had both their attention. "Shiro, ya baka, I told ya ta come tell Grimmjow the food was done! What happened?"

Grimmjow growled as he turned his angry gaze back to the man underneath him, "This lil' piece a'shit thought it was a good idea ta turn inta mah strawberry."

"An' like a sack of potatoes, ya fell fer it," Shiro muttered.

Grimmjow pulled back to punch the smart ass again, but Shinji interfered before he could, "Ah, ah! C'mon, Grimmjow, ain't ya hungry?" he asked as he grabbed his arms.

The thought of food had his stomach rumbling loudly, so he shrugged Shinji off of him and stood to his feet, dusting his pajama pants and white t-shirt. After throwing one last threatening glare at Shiro, he stomped from his room and down to the kitchen.

_Fucking Shirosaki needed to learn some boundaries_.

**Haha! Had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Anywho, hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to my beta, Sonbon, as usual!**

**Also, Thriller has fanart on deviantart. Holy shit, right? I know. **

**See ya next time! XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Nice long chapter for ya's. Enjoy! Thanks to my beta, Sonbon!**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_Beginning with a shock_

_The end can be a riddle_

_Is the best life and love_

_Lived in the middle?_

_-The Streets-_

XOXOXO

Ichigo stood in the shower, staring blankly at the wall as scalding hot water pelted him from above. His skin was red and felt raw, but he refused to move, his hand desperately clutching the shampoo bottle as wave after wave of fear and uncertainty washed over him like a tsunami.

_He was fucking terrified to go to work_.

Not only that, but before leaving his job that morning, he'd taken the trash out to the large, green dumpster behind the store and found two dead bodies, one quite obviously missing its head. He'd been violently ill, dropping the trash bags as he heaved up what felt like all of his internal organs. He also knew without a doubt that those bodies had been created by his recent visitor.

_Fuck, just the thought of the blue-haired mass of insanity had him gagging, his stomach churning with apprehension_.

He'd had no choice but to call the police and pretend to not know the man that had been kissing him. _The man he'd been fervently kissing back_. Ichigo was thankful that the store's cameras were the freeze-frame kind, making his and Grimmjow's kiss seem forced as if he had been trying to push the other man away. He went along with it, not daring to object or make himself seem suspicious, but he was all kinds of nervous and felt guilty as hell.

_He had been kissing a murderer!_

_A gorgeous murderer, but a fucking murderer all the same_.

Ichigo dropped the shampoo bottle and pressed his forehead against the wall of the shower, sighing deeply. He couldn't call out because he needed the money. _Oh, but he'd wanted to take his boss up on the offer to stay home after such an intense experience. Badly_. Then, he'd seen Karin and changed his mind. _His sister deserved her surgery and he wasn't going to be a selfish asshole_.

He shut off the water and picked up the bottle of shampoo. His mind was frazzled and probably resembled a ball of lint at the moment, so he stepped out of the shower with the promise to wash his hair later. Washing his body had been his first priority and after that, thoughts of the blue-haired lunatic had consumed him, shooting his concentration to hell.

Ichigo wrapped a towel around his waist and plodded out of the bathroom to his bedroom. He passed his sister, Yuzu, in the hallway and gave her a small smile, making her grin back and head down the stairs silently. He had just shut the door to his room when it was slammed open, making him jump and scream like a man being slain.

His father stood in the doorway grinning like the potential mental patient he was, "ICHIGO, MY SONNNNN! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR WORK!" he shouted at the top of his lungs and sprang towards him.

Ichigo snarled and stepped out of the way of the overenthusiastic hug, chopping his old man in the back of the neck as he did so. "You fucking idiot!" he shrieked, blood boiling and heart sitting on his tongue, "What the fucking hell is wrong with you? Knock first! And don't dammit scare me like that, BAKA YAROU!"

Isshin crashed to the floor and rolled onto his back to stare up at him, "Ichigo, my son, Papa only wanted to remind you of the time-"

Ichigo cut the man off and turned his back to him as he headed to his closet for his work uniform, "Get out," he grumbled, waving a hand absently.

Isshin whimpered like a kicked puppy and climbed to his feet. Ichigo heard the man slowly make his way to the door and pause. "Ichi-"

"I said OUT!" he reiterated.

After that, the door swung shut and Ichigo let his shoulders sag in relief. He had been scared shitless, thinking that Grimmjow had somehow managed to get inside his home to attack him. Ichigo massaged his temples and took a few deep breaths before finally reaching for his clothes. He unfolded his pants, took his shirt off the hanger and went to his dresser for underwear. As he reached for the drawer handle, he noticed his hands were shaking uncontrollably and he let loose a small, almost hysterical, laugh.

He really didn't want to go to work and have to face the chance of Grimmjow coming back. Even though the police were going to be doing surveillance, he was still petrified. Grimmjow wasn't a normal human being. Ichigo was pretty sure mere guns wouldn't work on the man. _Not if the ones he'd found in the dumpster with those dead bodies were any indication_. The insane blue-haired man had a means to do whatever the fuck he wanted and if he wanted Ichigo, no police and their toys were going to stand in his way.

_Which was why he was dreading going to work_.

He mechanically slipped into his clothing, movements jerky and stilted. He took a deep breath, grabbed his wallet from his desk and headed out of his bedroom after shutting off the light. _Although he was ten steps beyond afraid, he wouldn't let it keep him from helping his little sister_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow stood from the couch and reached his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his long limbs.

_It was time to go watch his strawberry_.

Shinji eyed him and shook his head as he changed the channel, "Ya better be careful! They caught yer dumbass on camera last night and they're pinnin' those bodies on ya too!" he snapped angrily.

Grimmjow cringed. He had been chewed out that morning after "dinner" when Shinji had been watching the news. His blond friend had seen the breaking news report of two dead bodies being found behind a local convenience store and the clerk of said convenience store being accosted by an unknown man. Shinji, recognizing Ichigo from the video, had lit into him and forbade him to go back, but Grimmjow had protested vehemently. _He wasn't about to let a few punk, pussy ass cops keep him from his prize_.

_Fuck no_.

Shinji had eventually relented, but never let him forget his "stupid mistake". Grimmjow had promised as a precaution that he would wear a hat over his bright blue hair, making Shinji suck his teeth and roll his eyes. Shiro had cackled endlessly, but Grimmjow was still pissed at him for his earlier stunt. Corky hadn't commented, but an infinitesimal frown had appeared between his brows at the news. That alone had made him feel even worse because Corky rarely showed his true emotions.

"Don't be dumb, Grimmjow. We need ta keep a low profile and with ya goin' aroun' killin' people, it makes it kinda hard ta do that," Shinji continued.

"Ok, ok," he grunted sullenly as he headed for the front door and a large, green hoodie he'd placed on the coat rack.

Suddenly, Shiro bolted up from the couch, clutching his stomach and grimacing, "Fuckin' hell, my stomach!" he yelped and rushed towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

Grimmjow grinned widely. _That's what the asshole got; karma in its truest form_. He slipped the hoodie over his head, withdrawing a black skully from its pocket, fitting it onto his head and concealing his hair. He made sure the house key was on its purple string around his neck before he dipped out the front door and started down the driveway.

His hoodie, dark-blue jeans and black sneakers made for good camouflage wear. Add a pair of black, leather gloves for his hands and he was prepared for a night of hunting. Grimmjow began humming his favorite song as he briskly walked into town and towards Ichigo's job. He hoped the boy would be there because he really didn't like going to his house. He couldn't see him there, since his room was on the second floor. _It burned him up when he couldn't see his strawberry_.

Grimmjow sucked his teeth in annoyance at the thought of what Shiro had done that morning. Grimmjow had honestly thought that Ichigo had made his way into his bed by some miracle. _He wanted to feel the boys lips under his own again, wanted to feel that lean body writhing underneath him as he made Ichigo beg for more. Then he wanted to squeeze the life out of him and turn those molten brown eyes into nothing but vacant space._

He licked his lips and frowned at the twinge in his chest at that last thought. Brushing the disturbing sensation he away, he picked up his pace as the blocks became more and more familiar the closer he got to Ichigo's job. About a block from the store, Grimmjow spotted a police cruiser parked across the street from the establishment. Pausing and scowling deeply, he blew out a frustrated breath. He had a mind to walk up to the unsuspecting officer seated inside the car and snap his neck before he even knew what hit him, but remembered Shinji's demand to keep a low profile.

_Shit._

_Now what?_

He knew there would be police around the establishment, thanks to Shinji's words of insight, but he hadn't expected the bastards to be parked right outside, making it virtually impossible for him to get close to his strawberry.

_So unfair_.

Grimmjow stepped beside a large tree and resigned himself to watching his treat from a distance.

XOXOXO

Ichigo would be forever grateful to his best friend for randomly showing up at his house, right as he was leaving for work. Always bouncy and filled with more energy than was necessary, Neliel Tu Odershvank, also known as Nel, didn't mind taking him to work (since his car had died a pitiful death a couple of weeks back) and keeping him company once he got there.

He was behind the counter at the convenience store relaying the previous night's (or rather early morning's) events to her. Nel's wheat and gray colored gaze bore into his brown one, wide with disbelief. He hadn't told her about the occurrence at Hueco Mundo, so he'd ended up explaining everything to her all at once. Nel leaned against the counter, her black, v-neck shirt revealing a ridiculous amount of cleavage as it clung to her curvy form. A dark purple, three quarter sleeved jacket also hugged her voluptuous form and matching purple skinny jeans looked as if she'd been poured into them. Black Ugg boots completed her outfit.

_His best friend was undeniably hot and if he swung that way, they certainly wouldn't be JUST best friends_.

"O-M-G, Ichigo," Nel gasped, her pouty lips hanging open. "I can't believe you're just telling me this!" she continued, tossing her long, sea-green hair over her shoulder.

"I didn't really have a choice, Nel. My old boss told me not to say anything about it, so please pretend that you know how to keep a secret," he muttered, running his hand over the smooth counter to distract himself from conjuring images of Grimmjow.

_Nel didn't help_.

"What's he look like? I want details!" she chirped.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and gave Nel a half-hearted glare. It rolled right off of her like oil on pig skin as she stared back at him with her huge, sultry eyes. He sighed exasperatedly and leaned on the counter, "He's really tall. Probably 6'3". He's got a lot of muscle, but not the gross, body-building kind-"

"Thank kami," Nel interrupted, placing a hand against her ample chest dramatically.

Ichigo laughed, but continued, "He's got these piercing blue eyes and bright blue hair. It's kinda hard to explain the style he keeps it in because it looks unkempt, but at the same time like he keeps it that way purposely, ya know?" Nel nodded, but urged him to go on. "Um, he has a really deep voice. Well, not as deep as your dad's, but deep all the same. And it's got a rough edge to it."

Nel swooned and batted her eyes, "Why are all the good ones gay or taken?" she mourned.

Ichigo rolled his eyes at her, "Have you forgotten that he's completely nuts?"

She giggled and shook her head, "That just makes him unpredictable," she scoffed with a wave of an elegant hand, the nails immaculately manicured.

Ichigo curled his upper lip in equal measures of disbelief and confusion, "Nel, he's a murderer," he deadpanned, hoping it would help his best friend see the error of Grimmjow's ways.

"Hmm, you've got a point there. It's just so hard to find a guy that's hot as hell and can kiss like no one's business. It'd be a shame to just let him go to waste," she mumbled, placing a finger against her bottom lip.

"You're retarded, woman."

Nel giggled again and twirled in place, "So they say," she sang cheerfully.

Ichigo heard the automatic doors to the store slide open and glanced up faster than he'd intended. A dark-skinned man of average height, with long, black hair strode into the store. He was wearing a long, white coat that had a high collar, a white, form-fitting shirt underneath, black jeans and black, combat boots that reached his calves. Dark shades hid his eyes from the public and his face was an expressionless mask. Nel gasped and hummed in approval at the sight of the man, but something about the guy made Ichigo shift in discomfort. His aura was incredibly intimidating and Ichigo was learning to trust his instincts.

The man went directly to the refrigerated section and retrieved a bottle of water, then headed to the counter. Ichigo didn't let his eyes rest on the man's face long, but he gave himself time enough to memorize the stoic features. The man paid for his water and left the store peacefully, Nel eyeing him lustfully the whole while.

"Wow," she breathed once the man had gone beyond the sliding doors.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

Ichigo picked up a magazine from behind the counter and was flipping through the pages, trying to find something interesting, when Nel yawned loudly, "Moh, Ichigo, it's 7:00. Isn't it time for you to leave now?" she asked, her voice tired.

He glanced at the clock, not having realized how quickly the time had passed. He confirmed Nel's statement and slapped the magazine shut, tossing it under the counter. _He would leave the garbage for __the next shift_. Ichigo grabbed his jacket, threw it on and waited impatiently for his relief to arrive. Ten minutes later, an orange-haired girl named Inoue glided through the sliding doors, apologizing profusely for being late.

"I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-kun! My car had a flat tire," she breathlessly stated.

Ichigo held up a hand and waved it casually, "No problem, Inoue. See you tomorrow."

"Yes, see you!" she called cheerfully.

Ichigo followed Nel out of the store and waved as she headed in the opposite direction to her car, "Later, Nel. Thanks for staying."

Nel yawned again and scowled, "Don't you want a ride?" she asked quizzically, turning to face him.

Ichigo shook his head and glanced up at the pale blue sky, "Nah, I'll walk. It's daylight, so I don't think I have anything to worry about."

Nel nodded and shoved off, waving over her shoulder, "Ok, then. Later, Itsyugo," she called through another huge yawn.

Ichigo scoffed at the old nickname, but headed off towards home. _He was glad that nothing had happened that night and even more glad that the night was over. He was tired and just wanted to fall face-first into his bed_. Ichigo pulled his jacket tighter to his neck, blocking the sudden gust of wind that assaulted his unprotected neck and face as he quickened his pace. He walked three blocks down, then turned the corner and passed a black and white, industrial van, not paying it any mind until the noise of the doors sliding open, broke the silence of the street. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and noticed the man from earlier – the man with the white coat and dark shades – emerging from the van and heading in his direction.

Chills swept his spine and goosebumps covered his entire body in .03 seconds. His instincts were in an uproar and commanding him to run. _So, he did_. He broke into a dead sprint, kicking his heels and pumping his arms furiously, his heart skipping several beats when he heard rapid footsteps behind him.

_Fuuuck._

_He had to have the worst luck known to man_.

Ichigo began panting, panicking when the footsteps behind him sped up and his involuntarily slowed. _Shit_. He was out of shape and had a mean ass stitch stabbing his side ruthlessly. _He was so going to get caught_.

_What the fuck had he done now? He hadn't told anyone - except Nel - about the Hueco Mundo incident and she'd been there when this guy had entered the store earlier. It couldn't have been that. So...what?_

Ichigo tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled slightly. He caught himself before he fell, but the pause was long enough for his pursuant to catch him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him to a halt. The last thing Ichigo saw was the white van skidding to a stop beside them, the back door still thrown open and...his old co-worker at the wheel. _The blonde woman he'd worked with in Las Noches: __Halibel_. He opened his mouth to drop a scathing remark, but a forceful blow to the back of his head rendered him unconscious.

**XxxxxxxxX**

When Ichigo next came to, he was strapped to a gurney, naked as the day he was born with what looked like EKG leads hanging from every part of his body. His eyes widened and he began struggling to get free, but his body was uncharacteristically sluggish. Suddenly, a blinding white light halted his movements and made him squint and blink away the black spots dancing before his eyes. The room smelled like a hospital and was kind of cold, making him shake and his teeth chatter. What he could see of the room was a high, gray ceiling and gray walls. His ankles and arms were strapped down individually with thick, leather shackles but the rest of his body (including his head) was held down and crossed over by large strips of leather that seemed to wrap around the whole gurney.

A strange, unfamiliar voice floated towards him from the right. He couldn't turn his head, so he had no idea who the fuck was speaking. That situation was solved when the bright light was whipped away and an odd-looking man was hovering over him, wearing a cordial grin. The man had short, blue hair that covered his right eye and only reached his chin. He had mustard-colored eyes and a lean body. His shoulders were sharp and angular, looking very much like shoulder pads and his grin was wide and deceptively charming. He was wearing a long white, lab coat that was buttoned to the neck.

"Hello, Kurosaki-san," he crooned.

Ichigo scowled and glared at the man, "Who the fuck are you?" he growled. "And where the fuck am I?"

"Well, to answer your first question, I am Mayuri Kurotsuchi, but you may call me Mayuri," the man answered, leaning over him and adjusting one of the leads on his chest. "I cannot answer the other question, but I can tell you _why_ you're here."

Ichigo snarled and curled his hands into fists, anger eating him from the inside out, "Fuck you!" he snapped.

"Arara, that's not very nice, Ichigo-san," a new, more familiar voice chimed in.

The lilting tenor made his fucking skin crawl and his stomach heave. Movement to his left caused his eyes to shoot in that direction and as his fears were confirmed, he felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stop. Pink hair and honey-colored eyes behind rectangular-framed glasses, stapled the alarming presence of Dr. Szayel Aporro Grantz.

"Wh-wha?" Ichigo breathed.

Dr. Grantz grinned and stepped into focus, "Now, Ichigo-san, you should be proud to be in your present position," he stated.

Ichigo wrinkled his nose in anger and confusion. _How the fuck was he supposed to feel anything other than absolute disgust towards his current situation? Why the fuck was he in this place and while he was on the subject, where the fuck was this place anyway?_

"I can see you're confused, no?" Dr. Grantz continued. "Well, let me start by saying that you've been chosen to be a crucial part of something much bigger than yourself. Bigger than any of us, really."

"What the _fuck_ are you _talking_ about?" Ichigo asked incredulously.

"Tch. Ichigo-san, imagine if you will, the perfect being, able to run faster, jump higher, fight better and excel at everything they lay their hands upon. A model warrior. Do you get what I'm saying? You will be our first, true subject," Dr. Grantz explained, his voice filled with wonder and a bit of impatience.

Ichigo felt his eyes widen at the implications._ He was supposed to be the guinea pig for this little project? _He suddenly realized that his thoughts of Dr. Grantz staring at him as if he wanted to perform experiments on him, had been totally fucking justified. He began trying to struggle again, realizing with dread that it was hopeless. His body felt lethargic and he knew that he'd been drugged to keep him immobile.

Dr. Grantz moved out of his line of sight and Ichigo could hear the clacking of computer keys as something was rapidly typed. The man that had introduced himself as Mayuri, stepped into his peripheral vision carrying a needle that had to be at least three inches long, not including the barrel containing a mysterious amber-colored liquid. Ichigo panicked and shamefully realized that hot tears were sliding down the sides of his face.

_He felt so helpless_.

"Hold still, Kurosaki-san. This may hurt a bit," Mayuri announced before Ichigo felt a pinch in his side, right under his rib.

A slow burn erupted in his side and spread through his bloodstream like wildfire. Ichigo's mouth fell open as a scream was torn from his chest. His body convulsed and suddenly, the places where the leads were attached began stinging in sharp intervals, like small bee stings. His bones felt like they were being reshaped or something, causing them to ache unbearably. His hands clenched and unclenched, desperate scream after scream being wrenched from his prone form and echoing loudly throughout the sterile room.

_Christ, the fucking pain_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow was pissed.

_No, he was so far beyond pissed, it should be illegal_.

The night had been a trying one for him and he needed a way to release his fury. First, he'd spied his strawberry walking into work with some green-haired _bimbo_ that had stayed and _flirted _with _his_ treat during Ichigo's _entire shift_. _What the fuck was that berry head thinking?_ Grimmjow had had a mind to follow the intruding bitch when they were leaving, but had changed his mind at the last second.

_Thankfully_.

He also remembered being swarmed with outrage at the sight of that asshole Tousen walking into the berry's work place. Fortunately, the son of a bitch hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, so Grimmjow had allowed him to carry on about his business. The dark-haired bastard worked for that pink-haired director and had been part of the crew that had apprehended him, Shinji, Corky and Shiro. _The fucker had it coming, but not at that moment_. After that, Ichigo's shift had been rather uneventful (excluding the bimbo) and Grimmjow had been looking forward to following the strawberry home once he'd realized he wouldn't be riding with the green-haired woman.

He'd been trailing a few meters behind Ichigo, when he'd been stopped in his tracks at the sight of the van he'd been tossed into before being taken and prodded and poked like a lab rat. He'd recognized the vehicle's license plate, as well as the bitch behind the wheel. Luckily, he'd had his hat and hood pulled over his head, hiding his hair, so he was able to step behind a tree and watch helplessly as Tousen jumped out of the van and chased his strawberry down. Halibel had peeled away from the curb to head Ichigo off and Grimmjow had followed at a relative distance, fuming on the inside, muttering obscene curses under his breath.

He would have interfered had the people chasing Ichigo been different. There was something that both were given as employees of Director Psychopath that fucked with Grimmjow's abilities. It was a small machine that looked like a car alarm keypad. _Whatever it was, it disabled him and made him vulnerable, leaving him wide open for attack from the dark-skinned bastard; and Tousen was no fucking pushover._

The next thing he remembered was Tousen knocking Ichigo unconscious and stuffing him into the back of the white van that had managed to catch up to them. Halibel skidded away with a loud squeal of burning rubber and the van disappeared down the street. Grimmjow didn't know why they wanted his strawberry, but he wasn't about to sit back while those assholes ruined him and probably hurt him.

_That was his fucking job_.

There was only one place that they would take Ichigo and that was Director Psychopath's base of operations: Hueco Mundo. Although the building had closed down because of the mass escape, the pink-haired asshole had a lab that no one but him and his cronies knew about. It was located in the underbelly of Las Noches. Grimmjow only knew about it because he'd been the reason that the pink-haired director had required a new testing staff. He'd been sure to escape after killing every last person that had poked at him, stuck him with numerous needles and performed painful experiments on him.

_Shit, he still had nightmares about it_.

Then, another asshole on his to-do list, Mayuri, had approached him with that stupid ability disruptor and rendered him helpless. _He would get his hands on that blue-haired motherfucker, even if he had to die doing it. Then again...he really wanted to turn Director Psychopath into a mere smear on the ground. That was his real wish_. _He would give his left nut to get his hands on that guy_.

Grimmjow set off at a dead run towards the house he shared with his friends. _He knew he needed help with this situation, but he wasn't sure he would get it_.

**XxxxxxxxxX**

"No fuckin' way!"

Grimmjow snarled silently as his hands curled into fists at his sides, "Shinji..."

"Grimmjow, that ain't keeping a low profile! Yer tellin' me ya wanna go _back_ ta the place we jus' escaped from? Ya cra-" Shinji's mouth snapped shut, but the fire in his eyes remained bright.

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes dangerously. He knew what his friend had been about to say and it made the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. _He fucking hated that word_. At least Shinji had had the decency to stop before he'd said the whole thing. Grimmjow didn't think he would be able to forgive him if he hadn't.

"It is foolish," Corky deadpanned.

Grimmjow's scowl deepened as he lowered his head. They were in the living room, the TV having long since been muted with Grimmjow standing in front of it. Shinji and Shiro were seated on the couch, while Corky was seated on the love seat. _It appeared as if he was going to be on his own_.

_Ichigo was HIS, dammit!_

He snarled again and started towards the front door, "Fine! Fuck all a'ya. Jus' remember while yer sittin' here all free an' pretty an' shit, we wouldn' even be here if it wasn' fer 'that orange-haired kid'," he snapped over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob.

"Six! Wait! Ne, Shin-chan, ya know he's right. Plus, it ain't right what they do ta people in that place," Shiro pointed out as he rose from the couch.

Grimmjow grinned and turned back to face his friend, "So ya wit' me on this one?" he asked the albino, willing to forgive the idiot's past transgression.

Shiro smirked and straightened his favorite black and white, plaid, flannel scarf. His form-fitting, long-sleeved, black shirt, black jeans and black boots were perfect for the occasion. "A'course! 'Sides, I ain't lettin' up a chance ta get at that pink-haired piece a'shit," he answered as he cracked his knuckles.

Shiro approached him and pulled the door open, but before they could exit, Corky had a hand on Grimmjow's arm. The shorter man was pulling the hood of a gray hoodie over his head and slipping his feet into a pair of black, high-top sneakers. He was already wearing a pair of gray sweats. "I'm coming as well. Shirosaki has made a good point," he stated with finality and Grimmjow felt a surge of joy rush through his system.

One glance over his shoulder had Shinji sighing loudly as he rose from the couch and made his way to the door. The blond had on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a white, long-sleeved v-neck tee and a pair of white, high-top sneakers. He snatched a red hoodie from the coat rack and shoved Grimmjow out the door, "I should kick yer ass fer this, ya know," he muttered.

Grimmjow was beside himself with sheer rapture. His friends were helping him retrieve his strawberry and on top of all that, he had a chance to kill that pink-haired shit and his cronies.

_The morning was full of possibilities_.

**Ai-yah, that was pretty fun. See ya next time. XD**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

**Thanks to my beta, Sonbon! XD**

**So, ready? Here we go!**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_I feel it deep within_

_It's just beneath the skin_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_I hate what I've become_

_The nightmare's just begun_

_I must confess that I feel like a monster_

_-Skillet-_

XOXOXO

"Get off my ass, you pervy albino!" Grimmjow snapped from his spot, huddled in the shadows of the hulking building of Hueco Mundo.

Shiro snickered, his voice a ghostly shimmer, "Oops!"

"Wouldja idiots shut the fuck up, fer ya get us caught?" Shinji whispered urgently, turning to face them from his crouch, his dark eyes glimmering angrily. "Damn, I can't believe I let ya talk me inta this shit, Grimmjow," he muttered as he turned his back once more.

Grimmjow shrugged, not really caring now that they were where they needed to be. Corky had disappeared to disable the locks and security cameras to the underground entrance of Las Noches, while they waited off to the side of the building for the petite man's signal. The grounds were eerily quiet and dark with a haunted feel, the normally dark-green grass appearing black in the moonlight. The high, stone wall that separated the outside world from the ancient structure, caused even more shadows to fall and stretch across the wide sloping lawn located in front of Hueco Mundo.

Grimmjow had led their group to the underground entrance to Las Noches, knowing for a fact that that was where Ichigo would have been taken. _He hated the fact that they'd had to wait until nightfall to make their move. There was no telling what that pink-haired asswipe had done to his little strawberry, not to mention that creep, Mayuri_. Grimmjow was antsy and couldn't wait to get his hands around both of their throats. Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning streaked across the sky, making him grin widely.

_Showtime_.

Shinji glanced over his shoulder at him and Shiro, growling shortly, "Stick ta the plan!" before scuttling off, still in a crouch, towards the source of the lightning. They quickly loped across the open lawn, stopping at the side of the huge, M-shaped building just to make sure there were no witnesses. Grimmjow felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end right when Shiro squeaked and choked softly.

He whirled on his heel in time to see a tall, brown-haired man with smoky gray eyes positioned behind Shiro, one long, muscular arm snaked around the albino's neck, while the other held a four-inch blade to the side of his throat. The man was wearing a black, leather motorcycle jacket, white, leather gloves, a white, v-neck tee under the jacket, black, skinny jeans and a pair of black motorcycle boots. Grimmjow lifted his hand to free Shiro, but was suddenly tucked neatly into a sleeper hold, his arms raised above his head and held firmly in place under his armpits.

"What the fuck?" he growled, wondering why he hadn't heard this guy approach. When he tried to listen in, he found the man's mind was strangely blank.

One glance to his left, showed Shinji in a similar position, the man holding him hostage extremely tall and skinny and wearing a black bandana over his left eye. He had long, jet-black hair and a wide disconcerting grin that strangely echoed the man's he was holding. The skinny fucker was wearing a white, pullover hoodie, black jeans and a pair of black and white, high-top sneakers. Grimmjow sneered at the emptiness in the tall man's head and turned back to face the man keeping Shiro in place.

He was pissed that he couldn't see or hear his attacker, so he took it out on the one holding his best friend, "I should kill ya," he rumbled softly.

Shiro's attacker arched a brow, gray eyes lazy and unconcerned, "How will you do that, Grimmjow?" he asked in such a deep voice, Grimmjow expected the ground to vibrate.

As it was, his eyes widened at the sound of his name coming from this stranger, "How the fuck ya know mah name?" he snapped irritatedly.

Brown hair didn't respond, but the tall shit holding Shinji in a crossface chicken wing spoke up, his voice a gruff tenor, "We all know 'bout yer lil' mind games, Toodee."

Grimmjow felt his ire rise as he glared over at the motherfucker that dared insult him. Even though Shiro was being held at knife-point, he still had the grace to laugh uproariously at the name Grimmjow had been called, "Wahahaha!" he shrieked, tears forming in his inverted black and gold eyes.

Grimmjow huffed and tried to move, but the person keeping him immobile was doing a damned good job, so he was only able to snarl viciously at the albino, "Shut the fuck up, bitch!"

Shiro's cackle escalated and the only thing keeping him from rolling around on the ground with mirth was the brown-haired man holding him in place. _Of course, his friend would know who the hell Toodee was because Shiro was the reason HE even knew who the fuck Toodee was_. Shinji snorted and smirked at him, making his nostrils flare with rage. He wanted to kick both of his friends' asses and the fact that he was stuck in place, helpless to move an inch, made him inwardly writhe in displeasure.

"That's original, ya gotta give 'im that!" Shiro managed through his spastic laughter.

"I ain't gotta give 'im shit 'cept the bottom of mah fuckin' foot," Grimmjow grumbled.

"What's a Toodee?" the brown-haired man holding Shiro inquired curiously.

"Yo Gabba Gabba," a deep voice rumbled over Grimmjow's shoulder, making his eyes widen and his heart skip a beat.

"Ah, the show Yachi-chan watches all the time," brown-hair stated with a slight nod of understanding.

"Mmm," the voice behind Grimmjow continued. "Toodee is the blue one."

Grimmjow bristled like a Halloween cat and growled under his breath. Before he could voice the scathing remark that was dancing around on his tongue, the brown-haired man decided it was time to get down to business and start asking the good questions.

"Why are the most dangerous escaped patients of Las Noches creeping around, asking to be caught?"

"Ain't nunna yer bizness!" Grimmjow snapped angrily, unwilling to reveal their purpose for being at the place they'd escaped from weeks ago.

The deep voice behind him spoke quietly, "Be nice."

With a petulant scowl, Grimmjow bared his teeth, "Fuck you!" he spat.

_This wasn't supposed to be happening. They were supposed to be on their way inside Las Noches to rescue his strawberry. Now, they were in custody by kami knew who the fuck and there was no telling whether they were going to be released or taken as lab rats again_. Grimmjow positively simmered with disgust.

"This is getting us nowhere," brown-hair said with a deep sigh.

"Yer right. How 'bout ya tell us what ya want, then maybe we'll think 'bout tellin' ya why we're here," Shinji retorted, his face screwed into a dissatisfied sneer.

Brown-hair considered him with calculating gray eyes before finally speaking, "Hn. One question: whose side are you on?"

Grimmjow frowned and glanced back and forth between Shiro and Shinji, both of his friends shrugging, just as confused as himself. _What the fuck was brown hair talking about?_

The tall, skinny prick spoke and Grimmjow felt the hairs on his neck stand on end with sheer excitement, "Are ya for, er against that pink-haired asshole?"

"He's gotta die," Shiro ground through clenched teeth as his strange eyes hardened and his demeanor darkened considerably.

Brown hair regarded Grimmjow and Shinji, "Is that true?" he asked calmly.

Grimmjow nodded, unable to explain just how badly he wanted to crush Director Psychopath with his bare fucking hands and Shinji answered with a stiff, "Yes."

Brown-hair studied the two of them for a few seconds more before finally releasing his hold on Shiro, which in turn made Shinji's and his captors release them as well. Grimmjow rotated his shoulders and turned to face the man that had been holding him completely immobile, his blue eyes going wide as he took in the man's appearance.

He was huge; tall and muscular as a wrestler. He had dark, wavy brown hair that covered his right eye, the left a dark color that Grimmjow couldn't quite identify at the moment. He was wearing a black hoodie, black sweats and a pair of black, high-top sneakers. He was extremely formidable and with the added pressure of Grimmjow being unable to read his mind, he was downright frightening. He wondered if his telekinesis still worked, though.

A wolfish grin worked its way across his features as he slowly lifted his hand, ready to strike, when Shinji smacked him on the back of his head...hard. "OW!" Grimmjow yelled, whirling on his heel to glare murderously at the blond.

"Don't be stupid, idiot! I wanna find out how they know 'bout us and why they're here!" Shinji retorted, turning to give Shiro the same chastising stare.

Shiro just shrugged as if he didn't care, but Grimmjow had noticed the albino's hand creeping towards his back pocket, where he kept his switchblade stashed. Huffing in annoyance, Grimmjow folded his arms across his chest and looked towards the entrance to Las Noches. _All these distractions were really getting under his skin_. _Ichigo could be dead for all they knew and if that were the case, everyone would have to answer to him_.

"So, how the hell ya know who we are? I ain't never seen any a'ya before," Shinji questioned, his eyes rooted to the brown-haired man.

Brown hair smirked slowly and ran a gloved hand through his wavy locks, "You wouldn't have seen us because we worked in the regular ward of Hueco Mundo. Nnoitra here was even a patient," he answered as he pointed towards the tall, skinny bastard, his tone bored, but his gray eyes alive with amusement.

Grimmjow felt his mouth sliding open as he digested what had just been said. _That meant they were...former orderlies? Well, that didn't make any fucking sense. The ice-bitch, Halibel, worked for Director Psychopath and she had been an orderly, so why the fuck were these guys any different? Why weren't they on his side?_

"Oi, what's yer names?" he asked gruffly, agitated. "An' why the fuck can't I read yer minds?" he added as an afterthought.

Brown hair continued to smirk lazily at him as he spoke, "I'm Stark Coyote. That's Nnoitra Jiruga," he stated with a point in skinny's direction, "And that's Sado Yasutora," he finished with a point at the huge guy that had been holding Grimmjow hostage.

Grimmjow grunted and continued to glare, "And why're yer minds a complete blank ta me?"

"That's a rather long story that will have to wait for another time. Right now, we need to stop Dr. Grantz from destroying another innocent life," Stark commented.

Grimmjow instantly bristled, all his defenses on high alert, "Why the fuck ya care 'bout Ichigo?" he demanded, ready to beat the holy hell out of Stark if he even thought about trying to claim what was his.

Stark carelessly arched a brow and studied him, making him feel uncomfortable under his laser-like gaze, "Hm, certainly not the same reason your interests are invested," he answered before stalking off. "You're either with us or against us, although I'll warn you," with this the brunet glanced over his shoulder at him, "It wouldn't be smart to fight us."

Grimmjow was left to watch Stark, Nnoitra and Sado walk off towards the underground entrance to Las Noches, confused and more than a little upset. _He didn't fucking understand what the hell was going on, but he knew he wasn't about to be left behind_. He glanced over at Shinji and Shiro, shrugged his shoulders and followed after the other three men.

"Somethin' smells funny 'bout this whole thing," Shiro mumbled, his golden irises glowing in the moonlight. "Dontcha think so, Shin-chan?"

Shinji grunted something unintelligible and shrugged his narrow shoulders. His eyes were glued to the back of the brunet named, Stark. Grimmjow snorted and grinned to himself. _So, that's how the apple fell_.

"_Shin-chan's_ too busy getting hard over that Stark guy," he muttered, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

A low growl was the only warning he received before Shinji whirled and pounced on him, sending them both crashing to the ground. Grimmjow's blond friend had his knee pressed against his Adam's apple and his bony finger pressed against his forehead, "Look, ya asshole, don' matter what I do or who I look at. We're here because a'yer obssession with that kid," he growled angrily, baring his teeth as if he were barely suppressing his rage.

Grimmjow smiled and lifted his hand, swinging it to the side in a wide arc and sending Shinji flying off of him, "So? What's yer point?" he asked as he climbed to his feet and brushed his jeans and hoodie off.

Shinji leaped up and started towards him, his hand held forward, but before either of them could react, Stark appeared in the middle of them, pointing twin, silver SIG Sauer p226 hand guns in their directions, "Don't make me shoot you," he threatened in a monotone voice, head swiveling to glance at both of them.

Grimmjow's eyes grew wide as he stared disbelievingly at the tall brunet. _How the fuck had he appeared so quickly?_ Shinji was also staring (more like drooling) at Stark, while Shiro stood off to the side wearing a large grin.

"That's better," Stark continued, "You're making too much noise. Settle down." Stark returned his guns to their dark holsters under his leather jacket and began walking away again.

Grimmjow scowled and followed, ignoring the scathing glare coming from his blond best friend. _He couldn't figure out why the fuck he couldn't read these guys' minds and now, he could add speed to the brunet's mystery. What the fuck was going on? Just who the hell were these people?_

They silently approached the entrance to Las Noches, rounding the corner that blocked the huge metal door from view and Grimmjow immediately growled and tried to leap forward, but was held back by Shinji and Shiro. A hulking silhouette stepped from the shadows, holding a limp form by the collar. When the huge figure stepped into the moonlight, Grimmjow's upper lip curled back and he heard Shiro growling. Shinji gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on him.

"I think someone lost this," the huge figure stated in a deep, gruff voice as he indicated the unconscious body by lifting it slightly.

"Get yer hands offa him!" Grimmjow spat as he took in the appearance of a man he'd thought he'd never see again.

"Ohhh? Look who it is. What're these three doin' here, Stark?" Kenpachi rumbled.

Stark sighed and shook his head as he massaged his temples, "Kenpachi, what the hell. Who is that?" he asked exasperatedly.

"This here's Ulquiorra Schiffer. When I asked him why he was hangin' around Hueco Mundo, he wouldn't answer me. Then, he tried to attack me. What was I supposed to do?"

Grimmjow glared at the tall, wide as three men, former orderly. Kenpachi had pitch-black hair that was slicked up into these strange looking spikes, a sharp, angular face, sporting a long, paper-thin scar that sliced through his left eye and a black eye patch that he wore over his right eye. The man was extremely formidable and it pissed Grimmjow off that he couldn't read his mind either. What made this entire situation unacceptable was the fact that the limp form Kenpachi was holding up like a rag doll was Corky.

"Let him go," Grimmjow growled and this time Shiro added his own comment.

"Fuckin' huge piece a'shit."

Kenpachi chuckled and dropped Corky, but before the petite man was able to hit the ground, Grimmjow held his hand forward, catching him mid-fall. He used his ability to move Corky to their side, gently placing his friend on the ground. The raven-haired male didn't appear any different, his pale skin unmarred and his large, emerald green eyes shut peacefully. Shinji dropped down beside him and checked his neck for a pulse, making Grimmjow's eyebrow twitch in annoyance. _If Corky was dead, Kenpachi would have to die too_.

Grimmjow was even more confused with the over-sized man's appearance, but Corky's welfare was his first priority. Shinji sighed in relief and Shiro followed suit. Stark ambled over and crouched to Corky's level, pulling something from the inside of his jacket. Shinji held a hand up and slowed the brunet's movements, which reassured Grimmjow. _That meant he could still use his telekinesis at the very least, even if he couldn't read their minds_.

"What the fuck ya doin'?" Shinji snarled and Stark arched a brow in amusement. Grimmjow wanted the answer to that question too, so he folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"Helping him regain consciousness. We may need his abilities once we get inside," Stark answered calmly.

Shinji lowered his hand and nodded, but Grimmjow was still a bit ruffled and on the furious side. _He still needed answers. How the fuck did Stark know so much about them, but they knew nothing about him or the others?_ It got under his skin and made him clench his teeth together. He may be pissed, but he was smart enough to realize that he wasn't about to get any answers anytime soon.

Stark pulled his hand from his jacket, holding something closed in his fist before he held it under Corky's nose. A few seconds later, his friend's eyelids fluttered several times before finally springing open. Corky blinked twice and turned his head first to the left, then to the right. When he noticed Shinji beside him, the tenseness that had begun gathering in his shoulders relaxed, until his eyes landed on Stark. Corky narrowed his deep green eyes barely a fraction, but Grimmjow caught it and he was sure the brunet had as well.

"What did you do?" Corky deadpanned, making Grimmjow crack a grin.

"Yer alright now," he answered, knowing damned well that that wasn't what his petite friend had wanted to hear.

Corky rolled his eyes in Grimmjow's direction and gave him a blank stare, "That is not what I wished to know. Where is the one called Kenpachi? I owe him."

Grimmjow and Shiro let loose loud barks of laughter, while Shinji merely grinned and helped the smaller man into a sitting position. It was obvious Corky didn't like the way his encounter with Kenpachi had ended and was ready to rectify it.

Kenpachi also let loose a rich, rolling laugh as he observed Corky still seated on the ground, "Anytime you're ready, chibi," he rumbled.

Even though Corky never overly showed his emotions, they were apparent if you knew him and could recognize the flashes in his eyes. At the moment, those green eyes were practically spitting outrage, "You do not intimidate me-" Corky started, his voice never rising or falling.

"Enough, enough, enough," Stark interjected, his baritone voice tired and a tad bit annoyed.

Stark's mood brought Grimmjow back to their purpose for being at Hueco Mundo in the first place and he chastised himself for being distracted. _He would never admit it out loud, but he was worried about Ichigo. He was worried that Director Psychopath would ruin him or something and that would be inexcusable_. _No one was allowed to touch the strawberry but him, so the pink-haired bastard had crossed another one of his lines_.

"Shiro," he grunted and the albino turned wide, curious eyes in his direction, "Ya remember the plan?"

Shiro grinned and nodded, cracking his knuckles as he started for the metal door separating the outside world from the underbelly of Las Noches. Stark held a hand up, halting him, "Wait. What were you planning to do?"

Shiro glanced back at Shinji, waiting for the blond to nod and give him the go-ahead to explain, "I go in through this door after Ulquiorra disables the locks, then I shift inta a face that the director ain't gonna find suspicious an' go ta the main office a'that lab underneath Las Noches. In the office, I distract everyone by usin' the intercom system. While they're comin' after me, Six an' Shin-chan get inside an' find the orange-haired kid an' Ulquiorra handles the cameras an' shit like that."

Stark arched a brow, "What happens when they catch you?" he asked skeptically.

Shiro shrugged, "I don't know. I'm pretty sure they ain't gonna kill me."

"Yer either brave as shit, er jus' plain dumb," Nnoitra scoffed as he rolled his eye and folded his arms across his wiry chest.

Shiro scowled and screwed up his lips, his face flushing in anger as he took a step in Nnoitra's direction, "Watch yer mouth, Toothpick," he growled threateningly.

Again Stark interrupted, "Look, no offense to your plan, but there are too many holes in it. It would be too easy for things to go wrong. Why don't you go with him, Nnoitra?" the brunet suggested, making both Shiro and Nnoitra glance at him in disbelief.

"Hell no!" Shiro shouted.

"Fuck that!" Nnoitra snapped, equally horrified.

"Stop acting like children!" Shinji and Stark scolded simultaneously, making Shinji blush as their eyes met.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, his patience having set sail, headed for the horizon hours ago, "Fuck! Somethin's gotta give! I can't sit here waitin' all night while ya try to come up with a plan!" he stated, frustrated that he couldn't just run inside the building and grab Ichigo.

"Well," Kenpachi commented offhandedly as he regarded Grimmjow with much amusement. "Does the Sexta have a crush?"

Grimmjow pinned him with a glare so deadly, anyone else would've keeled over on the spot, "Fuck you."

"Mmm, no thanks," the taller man returned and Grimmjow balled his hands into fists at his sides, willing his insides to calm the fuck down before he beheaded the asshole.

"Shirosaki, you and Nnoitra provide the distraction. That way if things get sticky, Nnoitra can help you out," Stark said, taking the reins once more. Both men grumbled under their breath, but thankfully didn't argue. "The rest of us will secure the facility and find Ichigo Kurosaki," Stark finished, rising to his feet and straightening his jacket.

Shinji stood as well and helped Corky to his feet in the process, both men pausing to dust off and straighten their clothing. Grimmjow tapped his foot impatiently, eager to get going and hopefully crack some skulls as he retrieved his strawberry. _He really couldn't wait to get his hands on Director Psychopath and his little buddy, Mayuri_. He was getting so anxious and excited, his dick was halfway hardened.

Shinji glanced at him fidgeting about and frowned, "Yer not gonna be able ta think straight all worked up like that," he remarked with a disdainful sneer.

"Shinji, I really don't give a shit right now," Grimmjow muttered as Stark headed for the door, Shiro and Nnoitra close on his heels.

Corky stepped in front of Stark and placed a hand over the security pad beside the large, metal door, causing the small device to beep and a neon green light to blink twice. They all filed in after the tall, leather jacket clad brunet, ready to go to war.

_Kami, he couldn't wait_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo felt like a painful pile of skin and flesh as he lay, trying not to move an inch on the gurney he'd been strapped to. After what seemed like hours of feeling like his very insides were on fire, the pain had finally ebbed enough for him to be aware of his surroundings once more. He licked his lips tentatively and flexed his fingers carefully. He felt like a tenderized piece of meat lying on a cutting board, waiting to be sliced and prepared for cooking.

His heart had slowed since the convulsing and pulsing short bursts of stinging through the EKG leads had stopped. His hands were clammy and his entire body was covered in a heavy layer of perspiration, his hair damp from the exertion of trying to block out the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. His body trembled slightly, but he was sure if he was out of the restraints he could move...somewhat.

_Who the fuck was he fooling?_

_He wouldn't be able to move even if someone strapped him to a skateboard_.

His lips were cracked and dry, his throat was sore and his voice was hoarse from hours of screaming. His body was achy from the abuse it had suffered, as well as his attempts to free himself by thrashing like an epileptic. He wanted to get up from this stupid gurney and leave...wherever the hell he was at the moment. Dr. Grantz and his dark-blue haired friend had left after the pain had started. They hadn't returned.

_It was insulting_.

It meant they were confident that he would be going nowhere and that only served to bruise his pride that much more. Ichigo writhed in place and almost shrieked in agony when it felt like his skin was tearing from his flesh. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. He realized the skin of his face was tight and dry from all the pain and fear-filled tears he'd shed and his nose was congested and raw.

_Fuck._

_Was he going to be able to get out of this place alive?_

_If so, how?_

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps were heard and he began to panic. _What else were they going to do to __him? Were they going to make the pain come back? Shit_.

Ichigo growled under his breath when he struggled against his restraints again and found that movement and escape were hopeless. He huffed in annoyance, his brows drawn tightly together as the footsteps stopped right beside him. He shifted his gaze to his right and nearly started hyperventilating. The strange man named Mayuri was back and this time, he was holding a computer chip about the size of a woman's pinky nail.

"Ready for phase two, Kurosaki-san?" he questioned, his voice as eerie as Ichigo remembered before the haze of pain had descended.

When he realized what the man had said, his eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat for a few seconds, "What d'you mean?" he croaked. If his hands had been free, he would have reached up to massage his throat. _The scratchy feel was completely uncomfortable_.

"Well, we've altered your body, now it's time we altered your mind. We're aware of your stubborn tendencies, so, in order to keep you in line and make you the perfect warrior, we need you to see things our way."

Ichigo felt his lips turn down at the corners in a dismayed frown. _He was going to be brainwashed, in other words. That had come to him clear as day from what Mayuri had explained to him_. _It wasn't enough that they had done something to his body, no, now they wanted to control his mind too_. Ichigo bared his teeth in fury, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to figure a way out of his predicament.

"Hold still, now. You'll need to be asleep for this, Kurosaki-san," Mayuri continued as he leaned over him and held a plastic, oxygen mask over his face and nose.

Ichigo panicked and his breathing quickened, making him draw in the sickly sweet fumes of some type of anesthetic. His eyelids drooped as the drug began working and the last thought he remembered was whether he would live to see his family again.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow crouched beside Shinji and Stark. They were huddled at the window to the large lab/operating room that Director Psychopath and Mayuri ran, waiting for Shirosaki to put part two of their plan into motion. Grimmjow was anxious and barely keeping himself from biting his nails in agitation. Shinji elbowed him in his ribs when he started humming to himself softly, making him hiss and glare at his blond friend.

"Be quiet, Grimmjow," Shinji whispered. "I know ya wanna get in there and bang some heads tagether, but until Shiro does his thing, we gotta wait."

Grimmjow scowled, knowing his best friend was absolutely right, but not willing to face that fact. Surly and impatient, he crossed his arms over his chest and peeked inside the large, white room again. Ichigo was strapped to a stretcher, naked as a jaybird and hooked up to a bunch of EKG leads. Grimmjow had horrible memories of being in the very same position and it pissed him off that Director Psychopath thought he was free to take such liberties with his fucking strawberry.

_He couldn't wait to get Ichigo out of there_.

Stark put a hand on one of his guns and peered into the lab, gray eyes stormy and ominous. Shinji was glaring at the pink-haired director as he hovered over an unconscious Ichigo. Grimmjow wondered what the hell they had done to the boy, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't too serious or life-threatening and not because he was worried about the strawberry's well-being. He was more concerned with the fact that if Ichigo was already destroyed, then _he_ wouldn't be able to do it. He wouldn't be able to fuck him either and strangely that made him even more angry.

Mayuri stood off to the side of Ichigo wearing a smug grin and Grimmjow longed to wipe it clean from the bastard's face. Just then, Shinji shifted and put a hand on his shoulder, making him glance over at his friend in questioning surprise.

"He'll be fine. We'll get him outta there," Shinji reassured.

Grimmjow scoffed, trying to cover up his embarrassed blush, "Tch. I know that," he mumbled.

Shinji chuckled and turned his attention to the happenings behind the lab window. Stark sighed and Grimmjow realized that the man was just as anxious as himself.

_Good. At least he wasn't the only one_.

There was a dull chime, like the sound of an old doorbell and then, "Welcome ta radio Hueco Mundo! This is yer host, DJ Shirosaki on the ones and twos! How's everybody feelin' out there?"

Grimmjow looked up towards the speaker in the corner of the hall and sniggered in disbelief. _He couldn't believe the idiot albino_. He glanced into the lab and smiled when he saw Director Psychopath and Mayuri exchanging confused looks before staring into the corner of the lab at the intercom speaker.

"So, tanight, I got a guest. Say hi ta the people, Nnoi-kun," Shiro continued, his voice shimmering through the speakers, the embodiment of amusement.

"Che, ain't got shit ta say," Nnoitra muttered, his voice thoroughly disgruntled.

"Nnoi-kun, ya can't cuss on the air," Shiro stage whispered, sending Grimmjow and Shinji into a fit of giggles. Stark rolled his gray eyes and shook his head lazily. "Anyhow, tanight we're bein' sponsored by the Kobayashi Takoyaki Stand, where all a'yer mouths dreams c'n come true. The firs' song inna rotation is...drum roll, Nnoi-kun!"

There was the loud sound of banging in rapid succession on a hard surface, imitating a true drum roll before Nnoitra added his voice to the noise, "Bum-bum-bum!"

"Eeee-yoohhhsh! Rain by the wunnerful YUI! Enjoy!" Shiro must have stepped away from the microphone of the intercom because his voice was considerably lower when he said, "Yo, gimme yer iPod."

"What? No way!" Nnoitra argued.

"I can't offer music to the public witcha bein' stingy, dumbass!" Shiro argued right back.

"Fuck that! Ya shouldna never done it!"

"C'mon, Nnoi-kun, don' be that way," Shiro crooned in the background and amazingly, Nnoitra relented.

"Fuck...ya break it an' I'll kill ya."

"A'course!"

After that, the sound of music was suddenly loud and clear and Grimmjow could no longer suppress his mirth. He doubled over, one hand clutching his gut, while he crowed into the other as he tried to at least muffle the bursts of laughter. Shinji's condition was no better as he screwed his eyes shut and giggled continuously. Stark was the only one aware of the two men inside the lab leaving their spots beside the strawberry.

"C'mon, they're leaving," the brunet stated calmly, not even needing to raise his voice to gain their attention.

Grimmjow sobered almost immediately as they scuttled towards the lab door, waiting for Director Psychopath and Mayuri to exit before making their move. His heart was racing like a rabbit's and his hands were shaking and twitching with the urge to break something or someone. Once the two men had gone, he, Shinji and Stark slipped into the lab and headed straight for the prone red head.

Grimmjow ground his teeth together at the sight of Ichigo. His bright orange hair was about two shades darker, soaked with what he assumed was sweat because the lithe, naked form was covered with it. There were bruises where the EKG leads were attached to his skin and also where the leather restraints held him in place. His lips were dry, cracked and parted, there were dried tear tracks on his cheeks and his nose and ears were a bright red. _Ichigo looked as if he'd gone to hell and back and was in the middle of making another trip_.

Stark shook his head in disgust, his wavy, brown hair swaying slightly, "Grimmjow, get him down. Shinji, try to find his clothes. I'll make sure no one comes in."

Grimmjow was only too glad to oblige. He hurriedly undid the leather strapped across Ichigo's head, chest, waist and legs, then he undid the leather shackles on his ankles and wrists. Once the red head was freed, Grimmjow snatched the EKG leads from his body, none too gently, but hey, he was in a rush. Shinji had been scanning the pristine white room and finally scurried over to a long, metal table where a small pile of clothes lay.

The leads gone and hanging over the stretcher, Grimmjow hefted Ichigo into his arms and smirked at the way the strawberry fit perfectly into them. _There was so much that he had in store for the kid_. His mind began conjuring images of what he wanted to do to Ichigo, his eyes greedily devouring his naked body; the long, lean, but toned legs, the ridges of his abdomen, the slim, yet muscular arms that were dangling while Grimmjow carried him bridal style, all made up the wonderful structure of his current obsession.

He was so busy admiring the younger man's body that he didn't notice the presence of an enemy. Tousen was standing at the door to the lab, an ominous, black gun in one hand and a small, black device in the other. His ebony-hued hair was still flowing over his broad shoulders, his eyes were still hidden behind dark shades and he was still wearing the same clothing of earlier that morning, which consisted of a long, white coat, a white shirt underneath, black jeans and black, calf-length combat boots.

Grimmjow paused as he recognized the device Tousen held in his left hand. _It was the little machine that fucked with his ability and left him weak as a kitten and vulnerable as a shaved lamb_. He curled his lip in annoyance and tightened his grip on Ichigo. _He had come this far for his prize and he'd be damned if he let this asshole take the strawberry from him now_.

Stark stepped out of the shadows and held both of his guns in Tousen's direction, making the darker male stiffen and stare at the brunet in surprise. _He had clearly been taken off guard_. Grimmjow grinned and sidled closer to Shinji, holding his hand out for some type of covering for Ichigo.

"Now ain't the time fer that!" Shinji hissed, grabbing his elbow and leading him in the direction of the door.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to argue with his friend, when both their attention was grabbed by Stark completely disappearing from sight before reappearing behind Tousen, where he proceeded to knock the raven-haired man unconscious with the butt of one of his guns. _Tousen never even had a chance_. Grimmjow now knew how Stark was able to move so silently and frankly, it disturbed him. That meant there were others like himself, Shinji, Corky and Shiro.

Speaking of the albino, the music had stopped playing and there was nothing but dead silence. Grimmjow hoped his friend hadn't been hurt, but then again, he'd been in the company of three other men, including the giant, Kenpachi. Shinji stood with his mouth hanging open, catching flies as he stared at Stark, who was sheathing his guns and stepping over Tousen's collapsed body.

"Y-ya got an ability too?" Shinji squeaked and the sound made Grimmjow cringe. _It was very unmanly_.

Stark nodded and pushed the metal, double doors to the lab open, "Mm. Let's find the others and leave before things get out of hand," he stated as he swept out.

Grimmjow agreed. _So far, they had been lucky as all hell and it was a bit unnerving that they hadn't run into anyone other than Tousen_.

_Not that he was fucking complaining_.

XOXOXO

Shiro gripped his side and winced, bringing the trembling appendage up to face level so he could assess the damage. He'd been stabbed by that pink-haired piece of shit's flunky and older brother, Ilfort Grantz. The blond had caught him off guard as he and Nnoitra had left the main office. Shiro's back had been turned and as they rounded the corner, heading back in the direction of their group, Ilfort had run a sharp blade through his side.

Shiro wished that Grimmjow had been there because his blue-haired friend already owed Ilfort a swift death for setting them up in the first place. The tall blond had been the reason Mayuri had been able to catch Grimmjow - and consequently the rest of them – slipping. _He loved his best friend, but the man __and his dick would be the death of them_. Luckily, Nnoitra had revealed the fact that he too had an ability and had engulfed the blond in a wall of flame, turning Ilfort into a human bonfire.

Shiro tried to stifle a groan as he lowered his blood covered hand and leaned against the corridor wall. He was getting light-headed and dizzy, his vision bobbing and weaving as he swayed on his feet. Nnoitra had rounded the corner before him to scope out the upcoming hall and was just returning from doing so, when Shiro slid to the floor, unable to support himself any longer.

"Oh, fuck," Nnoitra cursed as he stooped beside the fallen albino.

Shiro tried to speak, but his mouth felt like a jar of fuzz. All he was able to do was grip the taller, thinner man by the sleeve of his white hoodie and whine in pain. _He was so going to kill Grimmjow for making them come back to this place_. Nnoitra covered Shiro's wound with a bony hand and scowled deeply, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"Yer too much fuckin' trouble," he grumbled, his visible violet eye narrowed with trepidation.

Shiro gasped weakly at the pain from the added pressure of Nnoitra's hand, eyes shooting open to observe the blurred image of the taller man. Although they'd started out hating one another, Shiro had come to sort of like the gruff personality of the bandana sporting toothpick. He smiled at his thoughts as his eyes tried to focus on one of the three wavering Nnoitras before him.

"Ther's three a'ya," Shiro slurred, his head suddenly lolling to the side.

_Kami, he felt drunk off his ass._

"Focus on the me inna middle," Nnoitra muttered.

Shiro watched Nnoitra rip a piece of cloth from the t-shirt he wore underneath his hoodie before he lifted the hem of Shiro's black shirt, his cool fingers sliding against his abdomen and making his insides quiver, "Whoa, not on the firs' date, babe," he slurred, trying to capture Nnoitra's wrist, but his weakened state made his hand fall short.

A soft dusting of pink spread across the bridge of the taller man's nose as he scowled fiercely and wrapped the cloth around Shiro's waist, making sure to cover the bleeding wound in his side, "Wouldja shut the fuck up? Yer talkin' gibberish," he snapped and Shiro giggled right before he passed out.

_Grimmjow was definitely a dead man for making them come back to Hueco Mundo._

XOXOXO

Grimmjow ran as fast as he could with Ichigo lying limply in his arms. Stark and Shinji were ahead of him, leading the way towards the door they had entered the ancient building through. His head was hammering and his heart was stomping through his chest in outrage. Corky and Kenpachi were missing and so were Shiro and Nnoitra. The one named Sado had stayed behind to wait at the door in case they needed a quick get away, which had indeed turned out to be the case.

They were in the last corridor before reaching the outside, when something slammed into his left side with the force of an armored car and he realized with dread that whatever had done the slamming, had broken his arm. He nearly dropped his load, but was helped at the last second by Shinji, who had heard the commotion.

Shinji's hands were held up, slowing the motion of Ichigo's fall and a short, blonde girl with fiery, golden-brown eyes. She was rising from the floor in super slow-motion, her lips pulled back in a livid snarl as she reached for the pocket of the red, track suit jacket she wore. Grimmjow had a good idea of what she was reaching for and if she got a hold of that, it would temporarily be the end of their abilities. Before he could move to react though, he felt a chill creep down his spine.

..._they must not escape with the key_...

Grimmjow turned in time to hold his right hand up and freeze a tall man with long, dark hair that was held back in a skinny braid. The man was wearing a white, long-sleeved dress shirt, a black tie, white skinny jeans and a pair of black military boots. His face was chiseled, his cheekbones high and defined and his eyes were a deep gray that seemed to be wise and determined. He appeared to be a distinguished gentleman, but Grimmjow wasn't about to let the son of a bitch keep his Ichigo.

"You will let the boy go," the man stated calmly, regardless of the fact that he was being held frozen in place.

Grimmjow growled under his breath, the pain in his arm cresting like a tidal wave, "No. He's mine," he barked viciously, feeling like an overprotective dog whose favorite chew toy was being threatened.

"I cannot allow you to leave with the key," the man continued.

"Tch, screw you and your key," he snapped before making the man's head pop like a water balloon.

Blood and brain tissue splattered the walls and floor, the man's body crumpling and hitting the polished linoleum like a sack of potatoes. Grimmjow grinned sadistically and slowly made his way to Ichigo, who was lying on the floor, still naked and unconscious. He clenched his teeth together at the pain shooting up and down his arm and threatening to make him pass out from its intensity.

_He wasn't going to be able to carry Ichigo out of here in this condition._

A loud crack of gunfire echoed throughout the corridor, making Grimmjow turn and pay attention to what was going on around him. Stark had been forced to shoot the little blonde girl, because she had retrieved the device that disabled anyone with an ability and had rendered Shinji helpless. She had been in the process of making her way towards his defenseless friend, when Stark had fired at her. She now lay in a tiny heap on the floor, bleeding profusely from a wound in her chest.

Grimmjow was scooting towards Shinji, cursing the pain in his arm, when a tall man with onyx hair that was held up in this ridiculous star-shaped do, loomed over him. He had thick sideburns and wore slanted, silver, rectangular framed shades. He was wearing a turquoise track suit, black sneakers and was carrying a long, wooden baseball bat. Grimmjow pursed his lips, angry that he hadn't heard the man coming. The man swung the bat over his head and was prepared to bring it down over him, when the guy suddenly turned into a block of ice, starting at his feet and quickly traveling up over his head, arms and the bat. Grimmjow frowned and turned to find the culprit, only to have his eyes land on a tall, blonde woman wearing an all-white jumpsuit, her clear, green eyes flashing dangerously.

She turned to Stark and indicated the door with her head, "We have to hurry. Dr. Grantz has sent reinforcements," she stated, her voice commanding and authoritative.

Stark nodded, but stooped beside Ichigo, lifting him with ease into his arms. Grimmjow growled as he was helped to his feet by Shinji, his eyes never leaving the blonde woman leading the way out. Finally, the pain in his arm made him agitated enough to speak up, "What the fuck is Halibel doin' here? And how come she's got an ability?" he groused.

Stark grinned over his shoulder at him as they climbed the stairs leading to the door and freedom, "All in due time, Grimmjow."

**Fuckin' hell, that was long! Don't worry, I plan to have everything explained next chapter, so please don't bombard me with a million questions, LoL. Hope you liked it!**

**Til next time! XD**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Definite, definite, DEFINITE OOC! Lmao! Enjoy! XD**

**Oh, yeah, lots of song lyrics this chapter, so if that doesn't float your boat, feel free to sail right on past it. (shrugs) Just a heads-up...**

**And one more thing...I'm not going to apologize for my song choices in any of my fics because everyone has their likes and dislikes and is entitled to them. I don't see why I have to be the exception. Someone rudely asked me why I use a lot of hip hop and it seared my feathers a bit. I like all music, which includes hip hop. If that bothers anyone, I don't know what to tell you. **

**Anyway...**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_Was he dead? _

_Perhaps dreaming?_

Maybe that would account for the massive gathering of a certain group of individuals he never expected to witness all at one time...together in the same room.

There were a couple unfamiliar faces, but the whole scene left a dissatisfying taste in his mouth.

Thin, orange brows pulled into a scowl as Ichigo silently observed.

_Would you like to know what had his pants wrinkled?_

_Of course you would._

_Picture, if you will, waking up in an alien environment (no, not extra-terrestrial) with a colossal amount of adrenaline surging through your veins. You're spread on a lumpy, white, leather couch, practically sticking to it due to the humidity of the medium-sized room you're in. The walls are beige, the floor is covered in an icky, olive-green carpet and your make-shift bed is pushed against a far wall, leaving the space before you open as a dance floor. There is a wide shouji door maybe ten feet to your right, but it's closed. Several framed pictures decorate those beige walls, as well as a mounted, flat-screen television and pushed up against the wall directly opposite you is a small, wooden coffee table. It's covered in beer cans and various bottles of hard liquor. _

_Now to fill in the more interesting bits._

_There is music. And not only is it loud, but it's at an ear-splitting - very nearly offending – volume. It's American club music and the bass is shaking the entire room, ceiling included, not to mention your fucking teeth. There are large bean bag chairs scattered around the perimeter of the room, none of __which are occupied and the room is filled with the haze of cigarette smoke_.

_Can you see this in your head?_

_Good_.

Ichigo was lying on his back, mouth slack with disbelief as he realized just what was going on around him.

_Karaoke_.

_Very bad karaoke_.

Someone had obviously plugged a PS3 into the TV and there were words sliding up the screen as a wispy blond, wearing dark-blue, skinny jeans and a white, v-neck tee, hair in a chin-length bob, with a straight, Chinese-cut bang, wiggled his hips seductively and belted the lyrics to a popular American song.

_Got that glitter on my eyes_

_Stockings ripped all up the side_

_Looking sick and sexy-fied_

_So let's go-oh-oh, let's go!_

No matter how odd the scene was, Ichigo still found himself stifling what was sure to be riotous, snorting laughter. The blond, although loud and on par with the beat, couldn't carry a tune in a basket. He was all into it too, his eyes squeezed shut as he gripped a black microphone.

_Tonight we're going har-har-har-har-har-hard_

_Just like the world is our-our-our-our-our-ours_

_We're tearin' it apar-par-par-par-par-part_

_You know we're superstars_

_We are who we are_

_We're dancing like we're dumb-dumb-du-du-du-dumb_

_Our bodies go numb-numb-nu-nu-nu-numb_

_We'll be forever young-young-y-y-y-young_

_You know we're superstars_

_We are who we are_

A wide grin slowly bloomed across Ichigo's face as he shook his head slightly. He didn't really get a chance to enjoy the show because all too soon the song was ending and the next person on the roster stepped to the middle of the room, grabbing the microphone the blond still clutched.

"Oi, shit-face!" the blond snapped when he was shoved roughly out of the way.

Ichigo felt the precise moment his blood chilled and formed little ice chips. The person standing in front of the TV, waiting for the next song and set of lyrics to begin was extremely familiar, with his ash-white hair and frightfully pale skin. The eyes were what sealed the deal for Ichigo, though. Golden irises and black sclera.

_Fuck._

_He would remember that face for as long as he lived, but the question was...what the fuck was he doing there? For that matter, what were the rest of the people gathered doing there...together?_

_Shit, where the hell was THERE in the first place and why was he even present? Where were Dr. Grantz and that Mayuri freak?_

_Not that he was complaining that they weren't around_.

Ichigo allowed his eyes to leave the albino in the middle of the room and scanned the remainder of it. _The people he saw gave him the creepy-crawlies, but the ones he recognized made him want to continue to remain anonymous_. Of course, there was the albino Ichigo remembered from Hueco Mundo – more specifically Las Noches - but the man had been behind a thick pane of glass at the time. _Licking it, if he also remembered correctly_.

Then, there was another patient that he'd seen that had seemed pretty harmless behind the thick glass of his cell. It was the petite, raven-haired male with the big, jade-green eyes. He was seated on the floor beside an entirely too large man with dangerous looking, black spikes for hair. Ichigo didn't recognize him, but it didn't diminish the man's frightening appearance. A small, navy-blue eye patch covering his right eye and a long, thin scar running through his left, made him seem like a pure villain.

They were both reclining against the wall, legs outstretched before them, although the shorter man's legs didn't reach nearly as far as The Villain's did. The Villain was loosely clutching a glass bottle filled with a clear liquid between his tree trunk legs, a rakish grin tilting the corners of his mouth. He wore baggy, black jeans, a gray sweater that was half-way off and hanging around his thick neck, a white t-shirt underneath and his feet were bare.

The green-eyed man was holding a royal blue, plastic cup (you know the universal ones with the white rim?) in his left hand, his right curled limply in his lap. There was a gray hoodie beside him that Ichigo assumed had been discarded due to the heat of the room. Green Eyes wore matching gray sweats, one pants leg having rolled to the middle of his calf, while the other remained near his ankle. The leg with the exposed calf was bent at the knee and Green Eyes maintained a deadpan stare in the albino's direction.

"YOSH! Eat shit, fucker! I got the Big Joker!" a loud tenor shouted before a loud smack emanated from the corner closest to Green Eyes and The Villain. Ichigo sent his gaze over to the noise and his mouth opened in shock.

_What?_

Surprise and apprehension rippled through his system, making his skin tingle and his insides shudder. He didn't know quite where to start, but there were many things wrong with the scene his wide, brown eyes were taking in. First, the voice belonged to a man Ichigo remembered had referred to himself as a pirate. _Captain Jiruga to be exact_. _Now, why the guy was here, he had no fucking clue_. Captain Jiruga was wearing a ripped, white, v-neck tee, black jeans and white socks. Ichigo couldn't forget the man's white bandana covering his left eye. Captain Jiruga was on his feet, leaning over the table, hand pressed firmly to its middle, while his metal foldout chair rested on its side on the floor, a white hoodie trapped beneath it. Tattoos littered his skinny arms and a lit cigarette hung dangerously from the right corner of his wide mouth, smoke curling towards the ceiling and filling the room. A royal blue, plastic cup rested on the table in front of him, wobbling precariously from his over-exuberant slap to the tabletop.

That wasn't the worst of it, though. To the right and adjacent from Captain Jiruga sat Ichigo's old co-worker with the wavy, dark-brown hair and arctic gray eyes. _He couldn't recall the taller man's name, but he knew he had been an orderly at Hueco Mundo_. He also remembered the man and Captain Jiruga not being on such friendly terms, but there they sat at a small, black, aluminum card table, playing a game of cards. He too wore a white, v-neck tee – minus the rip – black, skinny jeans and white socks. A black, leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat and Ichigo spied the handle of a gun peeking from its depths. A can of beer was in front of him and he kept it safe from Captain Jiruga's enthusiasm by placing a large hand over the top and holding it in place.

Shivering, Ichigo allowed his eyes to move on. Across from the former orderly was another former orderly. More specifically, the other brunet that had introduced himself to Ichigo on his first day at Hueco Mundo. _He couldn't remember his name either, but the guy was still just as huge as the last time he'd seen him_. The big guy's wavy, brown hair still covered that right eye of his and his outfit consisted of a black t-shirt, black sweats and he broke the trend with a pair of black socks. There was no drink in front of him, but there was a long, bright-yellow sour straw hanging from his lips.

The last person seated at the small, square table had Ichigo twitching with huge amounts of 'time to get the hell out'. He peeked surreptitiously at the head of bright blue hair, glazed, ocean-blue eyes and lightly flushed, angular face. Grimmjow was staring up at Captain Jiruga, his slender blue brows pulled into a deep frown and his lovely mouth pursed so tightly, it was white around the edges. A green hoodie hung haphazardly from the back of his chair, while he wore a dark-green t-shirt with dark-blue jeans and...bright red socks. Ichigo scrunched his mouth up, hiding a smile.

He wasn't sure what it was about the lethal telekinetic/telepathic man, but whatever it was, it made him second-guess everything he knew about himself. Such as his scarily strong attraction to said man. Grimmjow had the ability to scatter his thoughts like pool balls, yet at the same time make his blood boil hotter than UV rays. Ichigo knew Grimmjow was deadlier than full-blown AIDS, but hell, he couldn't help but feel a morbid curiosity where the man was concerned. _He wanted to know more about him, like why he killed people to begin with and how he had come by his strange gifts_.

_He also wanted to know what it felt like to be fucked by him, but that would certainly have to take a back seat to his other inquiries_.

"Yer lucky I'm too drunk ta give a fuck," Grimmjow's deep, rustic voice focused Ichigo's attention like a camera lens, making him stare helplessly at the blue-haired man.

Grimmjow was rising from his seat unsteadily, hand grappling for the edge of the table to help him keep his balance. Ichigo couldn't believe he would actually let himself get drunk, but then again, like he said before, there was a lot wrong with this scenario anyway. Grimmjow eased away from the table amidst laughter and jeers from Captain Jiruga, the blond that had been doing karaoke and the albino preparing to perform. Grimmjow lifted his left hand slowly as he sank to the floor, his middle finger up.

He leaned his head against the wall and let loose a grossly loud belch, to which Green Eyes glared in his direction with his nose wrinkled. It was the most emotion Ichigo had seen on the man's face since first seeing him in Las Noches. Grimmjow shut his eyes, his head listing to the side a bit and Ichigo quietly wondered if the man had fallen asleep.

_He was kinda cute, drunk like that_.

_Whoa_.

_He never thought he would consider anything about Grimmjow even remotely cute_._ Smoldering charcoal brick hot? Yes_._ Cute? Not in a million years_..._and then some_.

Contradictions such as this confused him even more. He didn't know what to make of the effect the tall, sexy ass, blue-haired lunatic had on him and it gave him premature gray hair. Ichigo shook his head and turned his gaze to the other side of the room, where three more beings sat camping on the floor. He recognized all three of them with varying degrees of trepidation.

First, there was the big-breasted, orange-haired girl that he worked with at the convenience store. _Well, she came in after him, but he was still acquainted with her_. Her long hair hung down her back and her gray eyes were wide with sheer, childish admiration as she watched the albino pressing buttons on a PS3 controller. She wore a white, short-sleeved polo, light-blue, legging jeans and her feet were bare, her toenails a bright pink. Her hands were clasped together over her ample bosom, her mouth was creased into a wide, open-mouthed grin and her legs were crossed Indian-styled. _Orihime Inoue_.

Second, there was the short, white-haired patient he had once been wary of at Hueco Mundo. _He had also thought the guy was a kid_. Ichigo didn't remember the name that the big brunet orderly had given him, but he did recall something about the guy wanting to be called taichou. The man's glowing, aqua eyes weren't filled with hate anymore, but they did seem rather bored, like he was trying his hardest not to fall asleep. He was wearing a gray, long-sleeved thermal shirt, gray, skinny jeans and a pair of thick, black socks. His snow-white hair was tousled, with a stubborn lock folding over his brow as he also sat Indian-styled, his arms crossed over his chest.

The third person had his blood running to ice again and his hackles rising. _He didn't know why this woman was here, but he knew for a fact that she had been part of his abduction. But since this was a dream, Ichigo was willing to let it slide_.

His former co-worker/abductor was seated on the floor beside Inoue, her back resting against the wall and her long, shapely legs stretched out before her, crossed carefully at the ankles. Her blonde hair stood out sharply compared to the beige wall she was leaning on and her bright, green eyes were focused on the albino. Halibel wore a white jumpsuit that appeared to be painted onto her voluptuous form, the zipper in front pulled down to her navel, displaying illegal amounts of cleavage. If Ichigo wasn't gay, he was positive he would be drooling at the blonde bombshell.

_Her presence still made him nervous and suspicious all at the same time_.

Suddenly, bass started thumping again and the albino in the middle of the floor began singing. Even though Ichigo was more than wary of this entire crowd, he couldn't find it in himself _not_ to laugh at what he was currently witnessing.

_Quietly of course_.

The albino had wrapped a black necktie around his head like a bandana and was shimmying across the floor, his slim hips moving too fast for the eye to follow. His hands were planted on those slim hips before one lifted the microphone to his face. _Surprisingly, the albino was doing a much better job than the blond as far as singing went_. An excited, but strange, watery tenor floated into the microphone, exactly on time with the scrolling lyrics.

_I have a heart_

_I swear I do_

_But just not baby_

_When it comes to you_

_I get so hungry when you say you love me_

_Hush if you know what's good for you_

Ichigo tucked his lips between his teeth in an attempt to quell the raucous laughter bubbling right below the surface. The albino sank fluidly to his knees, thrusting his chest forward and back, his left hand clasping the back of his head and his elbow bent at a forty-five degree angle as he continued singing, his mouth curved into an enormous grin.

_I eat boys up_

_Breakfast and lunch_

_Then when I'm thirsty_

_I drink their blood_

The albino leaped to his feet, just as gracefully as he'd lowered himself and ripped his black shirt off, flinging it over to Captain Jiruga, who – Ichigo only just noticed – was leering at him with his wide, piano-key toothed smirk. The tall, skinny man was leaned back in his seat, wiry arms crossed over his chest and cigarette hanging from the corner of his grinning lips. The shirtless albino winked at him and bellowed the chorus like it was a Tarzan yell.

_I...am...Cannibal (Cannibal) (Cannibal) I am_

_I...am...Cannibal (Cannibal)_

_I'll eat you up (I am)_

_I...am...Cannibal (Cannibal) (Cannibal) I am_

_I...am...Cannibal (Cannibal)_

_I'll eat you up_

This continued until the end of the song, where Captain Jiruga, the blond guy, and Inoue leaped to their feet. A deafening cheer accompanied with applause went up around the room, Captain Jiruga even going as far as wolf whistling as Inoue squealed elatedly. _Even Halibel and Green Eyes were smiling, which had to be a feat in and of itself_.

"Shirosaki-kun, that was so good!" Inoue exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

_Shirosaki, huh?_

_Well, that was one name down_.

"Ah, thanks, Tits!" Shirosaki replied cheerfully and Inoue flushed a deep crimson as she tried to cover her breasts with her arms.

"Shirosaki-kun! Please don't call me that!" she whimpered as she lowered herself back to the floor, her huge, innocent, gray eyes downcast.

Captain Jiruga cackled from across the room, Shirosaki gliding towards him after snatching a can of beer from the coffee table and taking a healthy gulp. Ichigo hadn't even noticed until that moment that The Villain had taken Grimmjow's vacant spot at the card table, his gigantic form dwarfing the poor aluminum folding chair. He held a hand of cards, but was watching Shirosaki stalk to the table.

Ichigo had to disguise a snicker when Shirosaki cast a disappointed glare in Grimmjow's direction, "SIX! It's yer turn ta do karaoke!" he snapped.

Grimmjow cracked a blue eye and made an evil face at Shirosaki, "Fuck off," he mumbled, his eye lazily sliding shut.

Shirosaki veered from his path to the card table and headed over to Grimmjow instead, kicking his foot out to catch the dozing man in the leg. Grimmjow's hand came up faster than a cobra strike and paused Shirosaki's foot mid-kick.

Both blue eyes slowly blinked open and shot daggers at the albino hovering nearby, "Didn' I say fuck off, Shiro?" Grimmjow's voice was low and threatening.

Shirosaki's eyes had widened in surprise for about three seconds when Grimmjow stopped his foot, but now he was back to making scary eyes at the blue-haired man. "C'mon, Six, yer the Karaoke King! It ain't the same wit'out ya!" he ended up whining like a brat.

Ichigo's eyes followed the verbal exchange like it was a tennis match. Grimmjow was scowling, his teeth bared and a vein twitching along his temple. "Grimmjow, don't be a spoil sport!" the blond guy called from his spot near the TV. That only made the other man growl like an alley cat.

"Ya should listen ta Shin-chan, ya know," Shirosaki added, rocking back on his heels as he stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. His face was innocent, but his strange eyes were chock full of amusement.

"Fuck," Grimmjow snarled, "can' I be drunk in fuckin' peace?"

"Noooooope!" Shirosaki and Shin-chan sang in response, making poor Grimmjow curl his hands into fists that looked more than capable of plowing holes into anything they touched.

"Wah! Grimmjow-kun, you should do it!" Inoue chirped from her place beside the taichou guy, her round eyes wide and beseeching.

"Nah, he ain't gonna do it, Tits. He's scared," Shirosaki taunted and Grimmjow gave him a look that should have turned the albino to stone.

"Shirosaki-kun!" Inoue groaned.

"What? He is!"

"That's not what I meant!" she scolded.

Ichigo grinned and studied the scene playing out before him. Challenging Grimmjow's pride was a sure-fire way to get him to comply. _He knew that much and he'd only encountered the blue-haired man a couple of times_.

Right on cue, Grimmjow climbed to his feet and faced Shirosaki, his upper lip curled back in disgust, "Fuck you!" he spat and shuffled towards the TV and the microphone Shirosaki had tossed to the floor.

"It's ok, Six! I still love ya, even if ya are bipolar!" Shirosaki teased with a smirk worthy of the Grinch.

The hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stood on end as he watched Grimmjow nonchalantly flip the albino the bird with one hand and reach for the game's case with the other.

_Was he really going to perform?_

Grimmjow perused the back of the case and narrowed his eyes. A quirk of his lips was the only sign he found what he was looking for. He tossed the case aside and picked up the controller, briefly scrolling through the options menu before he selected a song. He chucked the controller and ambled over to the alcohol laden coffee table, lifting a bottle of something clear to his lips and swigging deeply from it. Grimmjow grinned, replaced the bottle and turned back to the TV, stooping to retrieve the microphone just as an upbeat guitar riff strummed through the surround sound speakers. He ran a hand through those tumbled, blue locks and took a deep breath.

Ichigo was ashamed to say he was as excited as if this were a real live concert. His heart was jumping around anxiously and his mouth had turned to a strip of sandpaper. His eyes were pathetically riveted to the insane man like he was his favorite band member.

_Right right, turn off the lights_

_we gonna lose our minds tonight_

_What's the dealio?_

Shin-chan immediately recognized the song and jumped to his feet, already singing along. Inoue too was on her feet, clapping and singing. The song was extremely popular and catchy and even Ichigo knew the fucking lyrics. It was an American club song made for dancing and...well, clubbing. Nel claimed it was her theme song and he had the pleasure of hearing it nearly on a daily basis. It was the green-haired woman's call tone, so whenever he called her, instead of ringing, he would hear the song. _It had gotten to the point where he'd caught himself absently singing the lyrics one day_.

Heads were nodding all around the room, some even tapping their feet. Green Eyes was a head nodder, although his was miniscule and barely noticeable. Captain Jiruga was an enthusiastic head nodder, cigarette still dangling from his lips and creepy grin still firmly in place. Shirosaki too nodded his head to the beat as he set his can of beer onto the card table, giving himself freedom to move about without spilling the liquid all over the place.

Ichigo knew shit was serious when he noticed Halibel nodding too.

_Holy hell_.

Grimmjow was nodding his head as he paced back and forth in front of the TV, his back turned to it, meaning he too knew it by heart. The situation was ridiculous, but Ichigo would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying himself.

_Party crasher, panty snatcha'_

_Call me up if you a gangsta'_

_Don't be fancy_

_Just get dancey_

_Why so serious?_

The small crowd was worked into a lather now, so Grimmjow held the microphone out towards them as the song continued, two rows of porcelain white teeth shining under the dim lighting, canines just as deadly as Ichigo remembered.

"_So raise your glass if you are wrong!" _everyone shouted, voices loud and joyous.

Grimmjow brought the microphone back to his mouth, his raspy baritone caressing the lyrics, _"In all the right ways!"_

The crowd chimed in perfectly as Grimmjow held the mic forward again, _"All my underdogs!"_

Grimmjow again, _"We will never be, never be!"_

The crowd, _"Anything but loud!"_

Grimmjow, _"And nitty gritty dirty little freaks! Won't you come on and come on and!"_

Crowd, _"RAISE YOUR GLASS!"_

Grimmjow, _"Just come on and come on and!"_

They all roared, _"RAISE YOUR GLASS!"_

Grimmjow had the small group of people in an absolute frenzy as he went through the rest of the song, his large, muscular frame moving like a snake through grass as he snatched his t-shirt off and whirled it over his head like a helicopter, hopping up and down as he did so. Everyone was singing along by now and Ichigo meant _everyone_. From the hyped up Shirosaki to the sinfully lazy, brunet former orderly, who had been satisfied with not participating before Grimmjow's performance.

Ichigo was enjoying the performance, but he was enjoying all of the blue-haired man's flexing and exposed, tanned skin even more. Grimmjow was sweating, his voice loud and sexy over the speakers. Ichigo gritted his teeth and forced himself to think about something else before he embarrassed himself by sprouting a boner during the musical mayhem.

_It wasn't working_.

At least he was once again wearing his work uniform and covered with a thin, yellow, cotton blanket, rather than the naked state he had been in, strapped to Dr. Grantz's gurney.

_Speaking of which_...

_Now that he was awake, he didn't feel any different. His body wasn't even remotely sore, his head was clear, he didn't seem to be brainwashed and he still appeared quite normal_. He moved a fraction and confirmed his suspicions. _He really wasn't hurting_.

_Had the incident with Dr. Grantz been a dream?_

_Oh no, that's right. THIS was the dream._

_He was probably still tied down to that gurney in Dr. Grantz's weird laboratory._

_With that Mayuri guy_.

Ichigo shuddered violently and suppressed the urge to gag. _His luck was so rotten, he wished this dream really was reality_.

Grimmjow finished his song and the noise made Ichigo's eyes squint and tear up at the same time. _It was fucking bedlam. Grimmjow obviously had potential to be a performer_.

Just as the music faded out, the shouji door to his right slid open, admitting two figures. Ichigo tried to hurriedly shut his eyes as they stepped into the room, but one of the figures swatted him lightly in the face with a paper fan.

"Now, now, none of that, Kurosaki-san," a charming tenor chided.

There was dead silence as he guiltily opened his eyes, insides lurching at being caught and now confronted. The second his eyes cracked open, they locked with astonished blue pools. Ichigo gulped, arrested by that piercing gaze.

_Fuck_.

Finally, he tore his eyes away and glanced up at the man that had hit him with the fan. The man was probably around his height, had blond, shaggy hair that haloed his face, a lock of it dipping between his dark, mysterious eyes. He was wearing an off-white, linen tunic and olive-green, linen lounge pants. His feet were bare and his smile was just as mysterious as his eyes.

"Can you sit up, Kurosaki-san?" he asked gently as he came to stand right in front of him.

Ichigo frowned but nodded, slowly easing into a sitting position, his body ripping from the leather couch like duct tape. _He was expecting some type of twinge of pain, a stinging, possibly even an aching, yet there was nothing_. His frown deepened as he swung his legs over the side of the couch. Suddenly, his stomach let out an embarrassingly loud and angry rumble. He clutched it, his face burning with shame. The man in front of him only laughed, the sound contagious and warm.

"Hai, hai," he said through his chuckles, "it's only expected that you would be hungry. You've been asleep for three days now."

Ichigo scowled and sharpened his gaze, trying to ignore the curious looks coming from the people surrounding him. He had to beat back the intense desire to meet the scalding stare he knew was coming from none other than Grimmjow. _Now wasn't the time for googly eyes_.

"Where am I?" he croaked and the sound made his throat burn and protest. _He needed to continue though_. "And why are these people here? And who're you?"

"Ah, heh, I'm Kisuke Urahara and this is my...assistant, if you will...Uryuu Ishida," the man answered pointing in the direction of the person that entered the room behind him.

Ichigo peered at the indicated man and after a few seconds of careful studying, decided the man looked nothing like an assistant. He was thin, nearly reedy, but his body was lean and appeared toned. He had jet-black hair that framed both sides of his slender, almost elegant face, solemn, dark blue eyes and a small, prim mouth. He wore a long-sleeved, white thermal shirt, white skinny jeans that were ripped at the knees and all-white, high-top Converse sneakers. He seemed like a normal guy...except for the ominous-looking, high-tech, silver crossbow strapped to his back.

Ichigo didn't see the point in having it if the guy didn't even have any arrows, but whatever.

He nodded at the Ishida person, who nodded stiffly back, then Ichigo turned back to Urahara, "That leaves where I am and why those people are here," he rasped, rubbing a hand over his throat.

_Strange how his fucking throat felt worse than his entire body_.

"Ah, of course, but first, wouldn't you like-"

Ichigo shook his head and held up a hand, "Answer me," he ordered, lowering his tone. _Even if this was a fucking dream, he wanted some answers_.

Urahara's eyes flashed and he instantly sobered, "Well, Kurosaki-san, I'm sure you remember your ordeal with Dr. Grantz."

_So, there went the dream scenario_.

The name sent a palpable ripple of tension shuddering through the room and for a short moment, Ichigo felt bad for ruining the festive mood. Then his better judgment kicked in and his resolve hardened as he nodded shortly.

Urahara went on, "For years, Dr. Grantz and his partner have been performing illegal experiments on innocent people. The results varied, but the ones being used as guinea pigs were held in containment. You know the place as Hueco Mundo, or more specifically, Las Noches." Ichigo nodded again, indicating the older man should keep going. "Dr. Grantz and Mayuri work for a higher being, a man much more powerful than themselves, enabling them to get away with their actions. I used to be this man's partner, but once I realized he was over-extending his hand, I parted ways. I've been trying to conduct a bit of damage control by...enhancing a few trusted people and training them. I've gathered a sizable group and our code name is Doragon no Chikara."

"Force of the dragon?" Ichigo repeated and Urahara nodded.

"I planted a few of them in Hueco Mundo in order to follow Dr. Grantz's activities from the inside and was fairly successful, until er...well, that is, until you came along."

Ichigo flushed angrily. _Urahara wasn't going to pin all his troubles on him_.

Before he could speak, Urahara rushed on, "That's not to say it was your fault, but your presence, in a sense, did manage to disrupt the flow of things. There was a mass escape," here Ichigo sent a disdainful glare at Grimmjow, to which the man only grinned brazenly, "and then, Dr. Grantz was ordered to use you as their next experiment. The man over Dr. Grantz and Mayuri is named Sosuke Aizen and he has devised a way to track those with special abilities."

"Wait, wait!" Ichigo interrupted, throwing his hand into the air like a grade schooler. "So, there are more people with these 'special abilities'?" he asked, using air quotes for the special abilities phrase. "I thought Dr. Grantz created them?"

_He was so confused_.

Urahara shook his head slightly, "No, he imitated a person with a real ability until he was able to perfect the procedure that allowed another person to gain an ability of their own."

"Well, who was the original...?" his voice trailed off, unsure of how to word the question. Luckily, Urahara understood, but before he could speak, a familiar baritone interrupted.

"Me," Grimmjow stated, his brow etched into a deep scowl.

Ichigo just knew his eyebrows were somewhere on the ceiling as he faced the blue-haired man. _That was some nuclear warhead he had just dropped on the room_. From the looks on everyone's faces, no one had known about that, but him. _Well, and the Urahara guy, who didn't appear surprised in the least_.

Ichigo shifted under Grimmjow's steady gaze, not knowing how to proceed.

_What did he say to that?_

**That was fun as hell! XD**

**I omitted Ishida's glasses on purpose.**

**Til next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Poll is closed and the winner is...drum roll, please...**

**THRILLER!...duh, right? This won by a long shot, LoL. Break Up 2 Make Up was second and The Fairy Prince was third. Guess I've got my work cut out for me ;) Thanks to all those that voted on the poll!**

**I'm changing the way I spell Stark's name. I think Starrk looks better.**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo sat still as a statue as he tried to wrap his mind around all that he'd been told. He was still a bit confused about some things and he had every intention to clear the air, but the way Grimmjow was currently keeping him immobile with his penetrating stare, made it hard for him to do even the simplest of every day tasks..._such as breathing_.

His tongue seemed to be making love to the roof of his mouth and his heart was shaking faster than Shakira's hips. Ichigo didn't know what to do or say. Grimmjow had been the original of a whole mess of copies, so to speak. _If that was the case, there was no wonder why he had been killing people_. _He'd probably been locked away and tested on for years at a time_. Ichigo couldn't even begin to fathom what the blue-haired man had been through.

Grimmjow was scowling, glaring at Ichigo as if he'd committed a heinous crime. His straight nose was wrinkled across the bridge and his lips were twisting into a fantastic sneer. _Normally, the bigger man would leer at him, so the change was drastic and a lot unnerving_. Ichigo shifted in his spot on the uncomfortable, white, leather couch, tossing a look in the blond man's direction.

Urahara grinned cordially and if he noticed Grimmjow giving Ichigo the screw face, he didn't bother to comment on it. Urahara's paper fan slowly waved to and fro and Ichigo was getting impatient.

"So, what the hell does all of this mean? Why the hell am I here?" he inquired, eyebrows bunched in a tight ball.

Urahara lost his smile and his lips pressed into a thin line, "Kurosaki-san-" he started, but Ichigo finally noticed something he should have realized when he'd first been introduced to the man.

He leaped from the couch and pointed a finger at the dark-haired male standing beside Urahara, his eyes wide with recognition and disbelief. "You're that guy from Hueco Mundo!" he shouted, his voice hoarse and cracking. "You're the one that thinks he's a chick!"

The man, whose eyes had gone wide with surprise, jerked as if he'd been shot before his dark blue eyes narrowed into tiny little slits and he gave Ichigo a snooty glare, "I _do not_ think that I am a chick," he spat, swiping a hand through his dark hair. His voice, though haughty, was also thoroughly indignant.

There was a smattering of loud laughter throughout the room, which made the man's spine stiffen as he turned his icy gaze to the others. The look was meant to intimidate them into silence, but only served to make them crow even louder. Ichigo suddenly felt bad for being the reason the dark-haired man had become the punchline of a joke.

"Ara, Uryuu-kun, it's ok," Urahara soothed. "We know your behavior was merely an act."

Uryuu's frown deepened and for one frightening moment, Ichigo thought the guy would draw his crossbow and start firing at random. Then, he remembered Uryuu didn't have any arrows to fire and gratefully allowed his tense muscles to relax.

"Ishida," Uryuu growled at Urahara before he folded his arms across his chest and effectively blocked out the world. He did, however, manage to send one last searing glare at Ichigo before he did so.

There was another uncomfortable silence from the others in the room, once the laughter died down. Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but the shouji door slid back, revealing a medium height, mocha-skinned woman with wide, golden, feral eyes and long violet hair, tied up in a high ponytail. Her grin was wide and mischievous and her clothes were tight and scandalous. Ichigo felt his eyes widening and wasn't sure if it was from intimidation or admiration.

She swept into the room, her moves graceful and catlike and went to stand near Halibel, who Ichigo was just noticing had a tiny smile creasing her lips. _But back to the new woman's clothing_. She wore...Ichigo was unsure of how to describe it. What looked like back leggings, clung to her shapely legs, wide gashes running up the sides, a skin-tight, sleeveless, black top hugged her more than ample breasts, the "V" at the neck, dipping down to below her navel. Both her arms were covered from wrist to just above the elbow with white leg warmers and wrapped with thin, black bands.

_She was frighteningly sexy and reminded him of Catwoman_.

"Ah! Yoruichi-san!" Urahara greeted cheerfully and the violet-haired woman turned those owlish eyes in his direction. Ichigo shuddered, getting unmistakably dangerous vibes from her.

"Kisuke," she acknowledged in a husky, feminine rumble. Her teeth glinted in the light and Ichigo realized Grimmjow wasn't the only one with super-scary canines.

_Speaking of Grimmjow_...

Ichigo peered at him from the corner of his eye and was disappointed to see the man still glaring at him as if he had killed his puppy. He didn't know what had occurred to cause Grimmjow to look like the mere sight of Ichigo disgusted him, but he supposed now wasn't the time to figure that out.

"Kurosaki-san, you need something to eat," Urahara stated, his attention switching over from the Yoruichi woman.

Ichigo agreed with a short nod as his stomach growled loudly again. Urahara nodded in return and left the room, Ishida following behind him like a shadow and leaving Ichigo in a room full of strange people. The tension seemed to skyrocket as he felt all eyes turn to him and with the way they stared, he was certain he would soon be engulfed in flames.

He cleared his throat and let his eyes roam the room. _Every_. _Single_._ Last_. _Person_,_ was staring at him, just as he'd suspected_. Deciding to break the ice, he tentatively cleared his throat again, "So, do any of you know why I'm here?" he asked.

He noticed all of the room's occupants exchanging glances (all except Grimmjow, who was still giving him excellent glare) before the brunet, gray-eyed, former orderly took the reins.

"Yeah," he answered shortly and Ichigo gave him a deadpan stare as if to let him know he hoped that wasn't all he intended to say. The man cracked an itty-bitty smirk and continued. "Dr. Grantz and Mayuri had you kidnapped and transformed into one of us."

Ichigo felt ice glide across his insides as that statement sunk in.

_One of them?_

_Kami, he hoped that didn't mean what he thought it did_.

He squirmed and shot daggers at his bare feet. _This wasn't good. Not even a little_. His head lifted and he locked eyes again with the man that had spoken. "What're your names?" he queried.

They did the glance exchanging thing again before the same man started with the introductions, "Starrk Coyote. Former orderly at Hueco Mundo and working for Doragon no Chikara," he said, his voice lazy.

A soft snort emanated from his left and Ichigo's eyes were drawn to Captain Jiruga. He was eyeing Ichigo with much amusement, a tilted grin on his face and his slanted, violet eye twinkling devilishly. "Nnoitra Jiruga. I sure as hell ain't no fuckin' pirate," he drawled and Shirosaki sent him a confused glance.

"Whatcha talkin' bout, Stick?" the albino questioned, pale head tilted.

Before Nnoitra could answer, Starrk jumped in, "Kurosaki-san here only knew Nnoitra as Captain Jiruga, if I recall correctly. Pirate captain, extraordinaire." his deep voice rumbled. Nnoitra made scary eyes at Starrk, but the brunet only grinned and went on, "Yeah, you didn't like me there either," he finished offhandedly.

Nnoitra growled and would've launched from his seat, but the giant to his left stuck his enormous arm out and kept him in place. Ichigo turned to the giant, who was eyeing Nnoitra carefully, "Calm down," he commanded, voice deep but soft.

Nnoitra sneered and swatted the man's arm away before collapsing back into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Ichigo could almost smell the frustration coming from the tall, skinny man. Shirosaki lifted an ash-white brow and grinned, his mouth opening to form a remark, but Nnoitra interrupted with a deep snarl, "Say somethin' an' I'll burn yer nuts off."

Shirosaki shut up after that.

All attention went to the giant when he cleared his throat and looked with interest at Ichigo, "Sado Yasutora, former-"

Recognition hit Ichigo like a brick, "OH!" he shouted gleefully, "Chado!"

The giant opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it and tried again, "How is that even possible?" he settled with. "I just told you my name and you still got it wrong."

Ichigo frowned when a ripple of laughter floated through the room..._at his expense_. "I just said your name!" he argued, unknowingly sinking further into the role of idiot.

"...Nevermind. Former orderly of Hueco Mundo, working for Doragon no Chikara."

Ichigo huffed irritably as his eyes moved to the next person speaking. _He knew for a fact that he'd gotten Chado's name right, so he didn't know why he was making a big deal out of nothing_. "Kenpachi Zaraki," The Villain stated, his voice deep and menacing, "Former orderly of Hueco Mundo, workin' for the blond idiot."

"Oi! I'm blond!" Shin-chan snapped, obviously unappreciative of the generalization.

Kenpachi gave a serrated grin, "Are ya an idiot?" he asked calmly.

"No!"

"Then shut the fuck up."

Ichigo covered his mouth with the back of his hand, smothering an abrupt chuckle. _He hadn't been expecting that and obviously neither had Shin-chan_. His face was pinched into a tight frown, like he'd been sucking on lemons.

"Fuck you," he grumbled, throwing his arms over his chest in a petulant manner.

Kenpachi just continued to grin wolfishly, his gray eye roaming over Ichigo's body like a scope.

"Toshiro Hitsugaya. Call me Hitsugaya," was all the short, white-haired, taichou guy offered. Ichigo nodded, taking in the intense look radiating from the smaller man.

Ichigo glanced over at Inoue and arched a brow, making her smile light up the room as she rubbed the back of her head nervously, "Aha," she giggled. "Kurosaki-kun, I-I guess I don't need to introduce myself."

Ichigo frowned as he shook his head in the negative, "No, but it'd be nice to know why you're here," he stated blandly.

"Tits is a witch!" Shirosaki blurted as if he could no longer contain himself. Ichigo grinned, but kept his attention on the blushing, red-haired girl.

"Shirosaki-kun!" she scolded for the umpteenth time that evening. "I'm not a witch! I'm a healing agent," she corrected, her elegant, orange brows scrunched in frustration.

"Yeah, whatever. All I know is, I pass out stabbed like a pincushion, then wake up an' POOF! No more hole in mah side!" the albino explained enthusiastically, pointing at his left side. "An' there ya were, hoverin' over me wit' yer hands out an' some weird, orange light glowin' aroun' me," he continued, finally taking a seat on the floor near Nnoitra.

Ichigo smiled as he watched the two interact. Inoue had her hands full with Shirosaki, apparently. He refused to not call the girl "Tits". _It was pretty fucking funny, actually_. They continued to lightly bicker until silence again reigned. Ichigo didn't know what the cause was at first, but soon figured it out. He had been giving Halibel the meanest stink eye he could manage, when the noise level evened out to nothing. He glanced around and realized that all eyes were on him and Halibel. She was staring back, her clear, green eyes neutral, face blank.

"So, what the fuck?" Ichigo asked, exasperated and fed up with being stared at.

Halibel arched a perfectly sculpted, blonde brow, "Why am I here?" she said and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

Ichigo answered her anyway, just in case, "Yeah. I mean, considering you're one of the people that kidnapped me and all."

The Yoruichi woman snickered into her hand, her wide eyes glowing as she focused that piercing gaze on him, "He doesn't know anything, does he?" she inquired and not only did Ichigo flush furiously, but he frowned deeply.

"No one's telling me anything, either!" he snapped defensively.

Yoruichi grinned and opened her mouth to comment again, but Halibel held her hand up in a "halt" gesture. A miniscule frown pulled between Yoruichi's brows as she turned and gave the blonde woman a puzzled look. Halibel's eyes never left Ichigo's face as she lowered her hand, "I was a mole for Urahara. My task was to infiltrate Dr. Grantz's forces and attain any information that would be of use to our organization," she answered, throaty voice a flat monotone.

Ichigo was still wary of her. _She gave him the chills, even if she was supposedly a good guy_. He huffed in annoyance and turned away from her, his actions drawing an amused giggle from Yoruichi.

_Now came the sticky part_.

Ichigo took peeks at the remaining figures in the room, the hairs on the back of his neck slowly standing at attention due to the sinister grin coming from Shirosaki. It was enormous, stretching the width of his nearly translucent face, completely giving Ichigo the creeps. _He didn't know what it was about the albino, but it rubbed him the wrong way_.

"Ne, ne, yer Six's lil' chew toy," Shirosaki told him, his watery voice amused.

Ichigo instantly hedged, his back stiffening at the man's words. _He was no one's fucking chew toy, let alone Grimmjow's_. Although, Ichigo would have to say, the way Grimmjow was mean-mugging him, he sort of felt like a chew toy. Shaking the sensation off, he sneered at Shirosaki, who, oddly, reminded Ichigo of himself, only a much pastier version. "I'm not his fucking chew toy!" he snapped, eyes lit with upset.

Shirosaki gave a silvery chuckle, the sound floating around the room like a ghost. "If ya say so," he absently mumbled. "Well, I ain't no member of ole blondie's gang, but mah name's Shirosaki! Shape shifter, at yer service! Nice ta meet ya," he went on to exclaim, a flash of his blue-black tongue being seen.

Ichigo hardly knew where to start or what to say. _Shirosaki had the attention span of a toddler, with the matching energy to boot_. He was so busy considering the enigmatic albino that what the man had just revealed, slipped his mind..._for about five seconds_.

"Shape shifter?" Ichigo blurted. _He knew the general meaning because he was an avid fan of anime and manga, but to hear such a term used in everyday life wasn't exactly what he'd call usual_.

"Ah," Shirosaki answered with a short nod.

Before Ichigo could go on to question him further, Shirosaki closed his eyes and the air around him shimmered and wavered before Ichigo was suddenly staring into the face of..._well_..._himself_. He stared at the being that had once been an albino, but was now a carbon copy of himself, from the bright orange locks, down to his brown eyes and freckled cheeks.

_Fucking hell_.

"What the crap?" Ichigo blurted, his eyes comically wide and his hands fisting at his sides.

The Ichigo copy smirked, "I c'n shift forms," he remarked.

Ichigo blanched at the sound of his own voice coming from a different person. He was about to protest when the air around Shirosaki shimmered again and he was himself once more. Ichigo's shoulder's relaxed from their task of bunching together and becoming one huge knot of tension.

"Don't ever do that again," he grumbled and Shirosaki stuck out his dark tongue at him.

"I c'n do whatever I want, Strawberry-san."

"Oi, fu-" Ichigo started, his skin prickling with fury, but Shin-chan interrupted.

"Arguin' wit' 'im is useless," he deadpanned.

Ichigo stared at the blond and sensed the unmistakable feeling that he was right. _Case and point: Inoue_. Ichigo huffed again and sucked his teeth before stating, "I'm assuming your name isn't really Shin-chan."

Shin-chan's back stiffened and his eyes flashed, "_Shinji_. _Hirako_. Call me 'Shin-chan' and I'll kill ya," he growled. Ichigo nodded, inwardly cackling like mad. _He wondered what Shinji would think if he'd known he'd been referring to him in his head the whole time as Shin-chan_.

"Fine. So you have a super power too?" Ichigo asked, getting back on track.

Shinji smirked, "It ain't a 'super power', baka. It's an ability," he corrected and Ichigo shrugged carelessly.

"It all means the same to me."

Shinji shook his head exasperatedly, his blond bob swaying slightly. He was giving Ichigo a look that a parent would give a wayward child that didn't know any better. "Yeah, I got one," he stated and his tone of voice clearly read "don't ask".

Ichigo quirked his lips and nodded, not really interested in trying to gain information the man so obviously wasn't willing to share. Green Eyes drew his attention next, even though he hadn't done anything. Ichigo just supposed he would go in order of appearance.

_Besides, he already knew about Grimmjow_.

_Too much, in his opinion_.

_Then again, not enough, really_.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer," Green Eyes stated, finality ringing with the introduction.

_He didn't even get a chance to ask the guy if he had an ability and even if he did, he wasn't sure Ulqui_..._whatever_. _Green Eyes_. _He wasn't sure if Green Eyes was in a sharing kind of mood_. Ichigo was just about to turn away, when what appeared to be bolts of lightening flashed in those emerald green eyes, illuminating them like a neon back-drop. His mouth fell open, but Green Eyes didn't even blink, let alone make a move.

_Had he just imagined that?_

_No_. _No fucking way_.

_He gave himself more credit than that_.

"Tha's all of us. Guess ya don' need Six ta interduce hisself," Shirosaki taunted from his spot on the floor beside Nnoitra.

Ichigo momentarily forgot the phenomenon he'd just witnessed and sneered at the albino that was clearly mocking him in a room full of near strangers. "You got a problem with me or something?" he ground through clenched teeth.

Shirosaki arched a chalky brow and gave him that insane grin, "Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Strawberry-san? Jus' givin' the facts."

Ichigo started to retort, but the wind left his sails as he realized that Shirosaki was right. _Since they all seemed to know each other already, it would be logical that they knew about his confrontations with the blue-haired menace_. Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, he lowered himself to the couch and contemplated his current situation.

He had been kidnapped and used as a guinea pig for Dr. Grantz and his partner, Mayuri. Apparently, a man with more power pulled the strings from the background. _Tidy little position, that was_. Ichigo wondered if he'd ever seen the guy before and just hadn't paid him any mind or something.

Then, there was Urahara, who had been the man's partner, but jumped ship when the man started abusing his power. Urahara started his own organization to keep tabs on the man and his two scientists, in the process creating a few beings with abilities as well. Ichigo frowned. _What was the difference between Urahara's enhancements and Dr. Grantz's and Mayuri's experiments? Weren't they essentially the same?_

Ichigo lifted his head, his gaze going to Starrk, "What makes the enhancements Urahara performs right? Isn't it the same as what Dr. Grantz and that Mayuri guy are doing?" he quizzed.

Starrk gave him a small smirk, his full lips turning up in the corners ever so slightly, "Urahara gets permission first. He lets us know we're in the water _before_ we start to drown."

Ichigo chuckled a bit at the man's metaphor, but could see how that made a significant difference. _If the people being enhanced gave their permission, then there was nothing wrong about it, other than the fact that it felt, strangely, like a manga_. Ichigo slipped back into his thoughts, his brain feeling heavy and full of questions.

_For instance_...

"Wh-when you said Dr. Grantz transformed me into one-one of you, what did you mean exactly? I have an ability too, now?" he asked Starrk, considering the man the official spokesperson while Urahara was out of the room.

Starrk shrugged through a huge yawn, his broad shoulders rolling gracefully, "Mm, perhaps. Ya gotta ask Urahara. He knows more about that than I do."

Ichigo wrinkled his nose, disappointed and dissatisfied.

_Well, fuck_.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned in time to see Grimmjow stepping forward, his hands shoved into his pants pockets, a deep scowl pulling his brows into a downward arc. His stunning blue eyes were nearly glowing with intensity as he gave Ichigo a look that could blister paint. Ichigo shifted on the couch, his comfort level steadily declining.

_Not that it was at an all-time high to begin with_.

Grimmjow stopped a few feet away from him and he gulped, trying not to show how nervous he was at the bigger man's proximity. _Then again, it really wouldn't matter since Grimmjow could read his thoughts_.

"What the fuck is goin' on in yer head, Ichigo?" the blue-haired man asked, his voice deep and terrifying. Ichigo went completely still.

_What?_

_There were two things wrong with that question_.

_One: Ichigo could remember the other man calling him by his given name ONCE since he'd met him._

_Two: Why didn't Grimmjow already know what was going on in his head?_

"Wh-wha?" he stuttered, his utter confusion shining through.

"I only get snippets a'what yer thinkin'. I don' like it," Grimmjow grumbled, his brow scrunching even more.

Ichigo didn't know how to respond. _Had he somehow found a way to block his thoughts from Grimmjow? Nah, he doubted it_. That left only one option and the thought of it chilled his blood. _Dr. Grantz and his buddy, Mayuri had successfully done something to him_.

Ichigo, totally disregarding the irate man before him, jumped to his feet and glanced around wildly. "I-I need a mirror!" he blurted.

Eyes stared at him blankly and just as he thought he would have to ask (more like yell) again, Inoue pointed to a corner of the room, where a full-body mirror was affixed to the wall. He flew over to it and immediately lifted his shirt, ignoring the mutterings from the other occupants of the room. His eyes traveled desperately over his torso.

_He noticed three things_.

There were no marks from the leads that had been attached to his body.

After a bit of twisting and contorting, he managed to see that there wasn't even a mark left behind from the needle Mayuri had stuck in his side.

Lastly, his entire upper body appeared more defined than he remembered.

_He felt like Peter Parker the morning after the spider bite_. His pectorals and abdomen were chiseled and rock-hard, whereas before, he'd been out of shape and just barely toned. He wanted to pull off his pants and check out the rest of his body, but studiously decided against it. _Not only was he in a room full of strangers (sort of), but he remembered the harassment he had undergone at the hands of a certain blue-haired bundle of insanity and frankly, he wasn't in a hurry to endure anymore_.

_Not right now, anyway_.

He turned to the side and studied the curves of his latissimus dorsi muscles, sloping from underneath his raised arm and grinned.

_He had muscles. _

_Shit, he hadn't had muscles like this since high school_.

Lost in his musings, he didn't notice the danger lurking in his peripheral until a split second before Grimmjow had a hand wrapped securely around his throat, but, obviously, by then it was too late. Ichigo was forced against the wall, panic gripping him as he stared into endless blue.

"Why can' I hear you?" Grimmjow snarled, larger frame pressing against him.

There was a bit of shuffling as a few others in the room climbed to their feet, ready to take action if things got out of hand.

Ichigo frowned into the man's face, his upper lip curling back as the fear he felt was smothered. It seemed like a switch had been flipped in his brain, telling him to fight and defend himself, so he brought his right hand up, grasped Grimmjow's wrist and squeezed. In the back of his mind, he knew the attempt would be futile, but anger and self-preservation flooded those thoughts.

Amazingly, Grimmjow gritted his teeth and wrinkled his nose before his hand fell away from Ichigo's throat. Ichigo adjusted his shirt and shifted into a fighting stance that baffled him. _He had no idea what he was doing, but the movements felt second-nature_. Grimmjow growled and lunged forward, arm outstretched. For about half a second, Ichigo felt his body freeze under Grimmjow's telekinesis, but in the next instant, he was free. He saw the blue-haired man's actions in slow motion, it seemed, because the next thing he knew, his hand had shot up and grabbed Grimmjow's forearm. He twisted it upwards and in the blink of an eye, ended up behind the taller man, shoving him roughly against the mirror.

Ichigo felt his eyes go wide as he realized he had just successfully subdued a man that had previously been able to do whatever he pleased with him because of his superior strength. He glanced up and saw Grimmjow glaring at him over his shoulder, even though his face was pressed against the glass of the mirror. The once lively room was now dead silent, all eyes riveted to Ichigo.

_He didn't know what to do_. He was afraid to let Grimmjow go, knowing the man was beyond pissed and very capable of causing him harm, but then again, after what just occurred, maybe he wasn't. Fortunately, he didn't have to find out the hard way because Urahara chose that moment to saunter back into the room. Ichigo witnessed his arrival in the mirror and had to tamp down a sigh of relief.

"Ah, trouble already?" the blond man asked cheerfully, his voice even and unconcerned.

Ishida was at his side again, but this time there was another person with them. A short, dark-haired girl with a very odd bang and huge, somber eyes stood to the side, carrying a tray filled with several assortments of food. The smell drifted over to Ichigo and his stomach growled loudly, dwarfing the rumbling agitation coming from the man in front of him.

"Shit, that smells good," he mumbled wistfully, his eyes sliding shut.

**And still more to come...*sighs* Well, time to see what Mr. Jaegerjaques thinks about all this.**

**Thanks for reading! Til next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

"Don' touch 'im!" Shinji stage-whispered, making Grimmjow's upper lip curl back.

"Why not?" Shiro whined and Shinji sucked his teeth, not bothering to answer the petulant question.

Grimmjow was in a foul mood.

_No, let him rephrase_.

_He was pissed the fuck off_.

Director Psychopath and his little bitch, Mayuri, had successfully fucked up his little plaything and he was far from appreciative. He could no longer control Ichigo and the shit Grimmjow heard in his head was like a static-filled radio station. He only caught snippets of the orange-haired man's thoughts and it infuriated and frustrated him beyond comprehension.

Grimmjow growled under his breath as he stared across the room at Ichigo, who was oblivious to his anger, eating without a care in the fucking world. As if Grimmjow's entire existence hadn't been negated. _There was NO ONE that was impervious to his telekinesis_..._except Ichigo_. Even now, all he heard was something like this: _so good_..._more rice_..._not my fault_...

Grimmjow growled again. He was cranky and helpless to fix this sordid state of affairs. Ichigo glanced up from his food and their eyes locked for a brief moment. _Staring_..._like fucking_..._so hot_...Grimmjow was pissed. _He couldn't make sense of that shit; it sounded like Ichigo had mental Tourettes_.

The blond leader for the gathered group of "ex-orderlies and friends" was standing beside Ichigo, smiling cheerfully as he watched the younger man eat with relish. Ichigo hadn't stopped eating since that little dark-haired girl with the weird bang had brought him the first tray of food and that was three trays ago.

Grimmjow continued to glare, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Not only couldn't he control Ichigo with his telekinesis anymore, or hear his thoughts clearly, he also had to worry about the kid and his freakish fucking strength. He grumbled under his breath. _Where the hell had that even come from?_ Director Psychopath and Mayuri had some explaining to do before Grimmjow made their heads explode.

Just then, Ichigo sat back and rubbed his stomach with a gusty sigh. "Ahh! That was good!" he exclaimed, his deep voice completely satisfied.

The blond guy, Urahara, patted Ichigo's shoulder, his grin widening as his free hand waved a paper fan past his face. "Good, good! I'll give you some time to let that digest before I come back for you," he said, his dark eyes mysterious.

Ichigo frowned and glanced at him, nut-brown eyes filled with suspicion. "What're you talkin' about?"

Urahara merely waved the fan dismissively as he laughed and started out of the room. "Don't mind, don't mind," he said before sweeping through the door.

Ichigo's pretty face still held a confused scowl and all Grimmjow was picking up was: ..._the hell_..._up to_..._fishy_..._sneaky bastard_...

His hands clenched into tight fists as he studied Ichigo from his spot across the room. _He was going to get to the bottom of what was going on with the orange-haired boy, if it was the last thing he did_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo stared at Urahara as if he'd just sprouted another head.

"A-are you serious?" he asked incredulously.

Urahara nodded, his face suddenly solemn. "Yes. You don't trust my scientist?" he asked just as incredulously and Ichigo was left reeling as he glanced back at Urahara's "scientist".

The red-haired boy stared back at him, eyes wide and blank as he held a manila folder under his left arm. He was wearing a short-sleeved, white tee with a black skull and crossbones on the front, black cargo pants and a pair of black, silk slippers. He was half Ichigo's height and probably not even half his weight.

_How in the hell was he supposed to believe that this kid was a scientist?_

The kid reached up and stuck a number two pencil behind his right ear as he silently regarded Ichigo. Ichigo wasn't sure what to do, or even how to respond, but he did need answers. Shuffling his feet a bit, he carefully asked the kid-scientist, "Are you sure there's a microchip at the base of my skull?"

The red-haired boy nodded slowly, but just to be sure Ichigo assumed, he flipped through the manila folder's contents. Dark eyes lifted and bore straight through Ichigo's head. "Yes," he answered simply.

Ichigo was baffled. He wasn't sure what to make of his current situation. If he believed what the little red-haired kid-scientist said, then that would mean Dr. Grantz and Mayuri had put a microchip at the base of his skull while he'd been unconscious. _For what?_ _He had no clue_. _Was it dangerous?_ _Sadly, he didn't know that either_.

"That's all, Jinta," Urahara said quietly to the kid-scientist, making the kid walk off after nodding. "I don't think it's dangerous, but I can't be sure until we do further testing," Urahara continued.

Ichigo bristled at the word "testing". _After his ordeal with Dr. Grantz and Mayuri, he was in no hurry to undergo anymore testing, thank you very fucking much_. He shook his head vigorously, clearly conveying his displeasure with that suggestion. "I don't think so. I mean, no offense, but I just came off the operating table."

A soft snickering went up around the room and Urahara gave a haunted grin. "Mm, yes, I know, but would you rather continue as you are without knowing what the purpose of that chip is?"

Ichigo grunted and frowned at the floor. Urahara had a point, but still..._did he have to go through the testing now?_ "When d'ya suppose I gotta get tested again?" he asked with a small wince. _He really wasn't looking forward to it_.

Urahara rubbed his stubble-covered chin and glanced up at the ceiling, "I think I need to figure out just where you stand physically first," he stated absently before lowering his eyes and locking gazes with the violet-haired woman named Yoruichi.

She gave him a coy smirk and turned her feline-like eyes to Ichigo, "Time for your hazing, Ichigo," she said, her voice throaty, but feminine.

Ichigo scowled and glanced back and forth between Urahara and Yoruichi, confused. _What the hell did she mean by "hazing"?_ _He knew the literal term as far as college went and such, but_...

"What the hell is she talking about?" he snapped at Urahara. When the man only grinned mysteriously at him, Ichigo whipped his head back to Yoruichi. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Ichigo wasn't even ashamed to admit that he was more than a bit wary of what was going on at the moment. He felt too much like a cornered cat and he just knew his claws were slowly extending and his back raising. The pressure in the room suddenly spiked and grew dense and Ichigo's head went light before clearing almost in the same instant. His eyes darted around the room, his sense of smell abruptly allowing him to pinpoint the very soap each person in the room had used that day. He could hear Nnoitra breathing on the other side of the room, could almost hear Shinji blinking. His vision was acute and sharp, focused perfectly like HD television.

His hands twitched and he realized it was because Urahara had dared to shift a muscle. Ichigo didn't know what the fuck was going on and even though it scared the shit out of him, he also had to admit that he liked it. He felt like there was no one in the world that could sneak up on him at the moment. _What was there NOT to like about a situation like that?_

Urahara finally spoke, lowly and carefully. "Kurosaki-san, do calm down."

To Ichigo, it sounded like Urahara had murmured right in his ear. He flinched and stared the older man down, aware that all eyes were on him and a few occupants of the room were easing hands towards weapons. Ichigo suddenly laughed. _For some reason, he just knew that weapons would be futile against him_.

Urahara tried again. "Kuro-"

"I heard you," Ichigo answered, just as quietly. He sniffed the air and gave Urahara a smug grin. "You're scared. You should be."

Urahara's eyes widened briefly before just as quickly returning to their original state. "Hmm," he hummed, his eyes darkening and Ishida's hand going for his crossbow. "Threats don't work on me, Kurosaki-san." And just like that, the mood in the room lifted and Urahara was his cheerful self again, dark eyes crinkling in the corners with his wide smile. "Come, Kurosaki-san! It's time for you to show me what you can do!" he said and whirled on his heel, leaving the room in whoosh of flowing linen, Ishida right behind him, shooting Ichigo a warning look before he left.

Ichigo glanced around the room and noticed that everyone watched him with various degrees of curiosity and wariness. He grinned and followed Urahara out of the room.

_It was nice to be the one feared for a change_.

**XxxxxxX**

Ichigo took in his surroundings and whistled under his breath. The room he was currently in was huge and reminded him of the training room he'd seen on X-men. If this was supposed to be some type of imitation of that, he was impressed. The room was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling gray tile and the acoustics were amazing. Urahara's footsteps bounced off the walls with astounding clarity and in Ichigo's heightened state, it was almost painful to hear.

Urahara stood in the middle of the floor, waving his paper fan to and fro, Yoruichi standing beside him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Ichigo arched a brow and sent a look to his right, where the rest of the other room's occupants had hunkered down. They were seated on a small section of metal bleachers, watching the happenings in the middle of the expansive room. Ichigo shifted his weight to his left foot and gave Urahara a bored look, tempted to yawn as well.

Urahara grinned and stopped waving his fan. "Yoruichi has been kind enough to volunteer her services to you, Kurosaki-san," he said slowly.

Ichigo scowled and stared back blankly for a few seconds before replying in a monotone, "Urahara, I'm gay."

The silence was damned near palpable before the bleachers exploded into loud laughter. Ichigo scowled even more, shooting the bleachers' occupants a death glare. _He didn't see the joke_. _He wasn't about to have sex with some chick in front of a bunch of other people, especially not when he didn't even like them that way_.

Yoruichi tipped her head back and guffawed like a drunken man. "Baka yarou!" she screeched, doubling over and clutching her gut.

Ichigo, on the other hand, was unimpressed. "Well, what the hell was Urahara talking about?" he snapped, then turned on the older man. "Stop speaking in fucking riddles!"

More laughter.

Ichigo was fast becoming fed up and started to turn on his heel to get the hell out of there, when Urahara held a hand up, silencing the boisterous laughter. Shirosaki and Nnoitra could still be heard snickering, but Ichigo considered it a miracle that Urahara was able to make them shut up at all.

"What I meant, Kurosaki-san, was that Yoruichi has volunteered to test you on your hand-to-hand combat skills, if you have any," Urahara clarified.

Ichigo deflated with embarrassment. _No wonder they had been laughing at him_. _Here he was thinking Yoruichi was trying to offer him sex and she was only trying to test him in fighting_. He cringed and ran a hand over his face. Unacceptably mortified, he was eager to redeem himself. "When do we start?" he asked.

Yoruichi grinned and bowed slightly, her hands formally pressed together against her sternum. "We start now."

Urahara faded from the center of the room swiftly and made his way over to the bleachers, where he sat on the very first row beside Ishida. Ichigo turned his attention back to the violet-haired woman stretching her legs and arms and rotating her shoulders. Ichigo felt quite normal, his heightened state seeming to have dulled as he stood waiting in the middle of the room.

Yoruichi smirked. "Let's begin," she cooed and abruptly spun, sweeping her foot out and catching his ankle.

Ichigo crumpled to the floor like a house of cards. _Holy hell, Yoruichi was fast as lightning_. She came at him again, all grace and fluidity, her leg raised and foot threatening to stomp his chest in. He rolled to the side in time to dodge the blow, his heart rate kicking into double time as he jumped to his feet. Yoruichi slow-walked him, approaching him as if she didn't have a care in the world before she suddenly disappeared.

Ichigo froze, mind uncomprehending. _He was sure she had been there only a second ago_. _People didn't just disappear, so what the fuck indeed?_ And then an elegant arm was wrapped around his neck like a bungee cord. His eyes widened as his hands flew up and his fingers clawed at the surprisingly strong woman. He had known there was something dangerous about her and now, he had the proof. _She was almost too strong_.

"Are you a fluke, Ichigo?" she whispered in his ear as her shapely legs wound around his waist from behind, clamping onto him like lobster claws. "Was that just a show in the other room?"

Ichigo inwardly seethed as he tried to tear the smaller woman from his body. Her free arm came up beside the one wrapped around his neck and she locked in place, making movement virtually impossible. His breathing was languishing, his vision becoming blurry and there was an annoying buzzing in his ears.

_Was this what it was like to die?_

Ichigo slumped to his knees, Yoruichi clinging to his back like a toddler. Disappointment wound its way through his system as he gasped for air. _So, maybe Yoruichi was right_. _Maybe what had happened in the other room had only been a fluke_.

Ichigo fell forward, bracing his weight on his arms as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. And then, all at once, as if a switch had been thrown again, his vision cleared like someone had shooed away a thick cloud of fog, his hearing sharpened and intensified, making Yoruichi's calm breathing sound more like harsh pants in his ears and he could almost taste the smug satisfaction rolling from her smaller body.

Annoyed, he lifted one arm and gripped the dainty wrist lodged under his Adam's apple. He squeezed powerfully and was delighted to hear the astonished yelp that came from the dark-haired woman. Before Ichigo could proceed, Yoruichi disappeared again, this time not even trying to ambush him as she reappeared in front of him, cradling her forearm and glaring down at him in awe. Ichigo climbed to his feet, no longer hampered by dizziness or lack of oxygen as he glared back at Yoruichi.

"Hmph," she grunted and disappeared again.

Ichigo was getting really tired of her disappearing acts, but stood stock-still, allowing his renewed senses to take over. He closed his eyes and concentrated. After a second or two, he could hear her breathing to his left, so he swung his arm in that direction, quietly accomplished when Yoruichi grunted and flashed into sight. Ichigo wasted no time grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him, but she recovered more quickly than he'd expected and pressed a palm to his chest.

It felt like a thousand bees were stinging him under her palm. Ichigo started to shove her away, when the sensation died and Yoruichi withdrew her hand, glaring back and forth between it and Ichigo's chest. Not one to waste an opportunity, Ichigo went to lunge, but instead his body moved of its own accord, making him drop and sweep the smaller woman off her feet. She landed on her back and he was on her in an instant, his foot pressed against her neck, keeping her grounded.

He was waiting for her to disappear, but all she did was flicker a few times before growling and wrapping her hands around his ankle. Ichigo arched a brow when she drew her hands back with a loud hiss. Her golden, feral eyes were livid, but it was obvious that this rabbit was out of tricks. Her hands slowly fell to her sides as she continued to eye him angrily.

Ichigo didn't know what the hell was going on with his body, but he damned sure liked it. _He was almost positive he should have been dead or unconscious, but instead had recovered and beat a very dangerous woman_. Ichigo glanced over at Urahara, who was watching with a blank face, his dark eyes curious. The bleachers were eerily silent as the others watched him as well, some curious, others downright astonished.

Finally, Urahara rose from the bleachers and made his way over. "Let her up," he requested, pointing his chin in Yoruichi's direction.

Ichigo removed his foot and leaned over to help her up, but she shrank away from him like he was a deadly airborne virus. Urahara observed Yoruichi's skittishness with an arched brow, then turned back to Ichigo, a new light of appreciation in his eyes. "Next test, yes?" he asked.

Ichigo frowned. _There was more?_ "What now?" he asked, sounding like an annoyed teenager.

Urahara laughed and waved his fan. "Nothing too serious, of course."

_Which meant "Something far more dangerous than Yoruichi, for sure," in Urahara-speak_.

Ichigo huffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Urahara waited until Yoruichi had taken a seat over at the bleachers before he looked up in the corner of the room and waved his fan twice. Ichigo followed his line of vision, but saw nothing. He turned back to Urahara, who was now grinning at him cordially as if he hadn't just been looking and communicating with nothing in the corner of the room.

Without warning, a low rumbling shook the floor and randomly-spaced panels slid back, revealing dark squares where tiles used to be. Jagged looking rocks appeared out of the dark squares and then the rumbling was over. Ichigo gave Urahara an exasperated look before noticing the sound of squeaking. Whipping his head around, he turned in time to see the girl from earlier that had supplied him with food, pushing a metal cart covered with strange items. She ambled up to them, huge, sad blue eyes locked on the floor.

"Ah, thank you, Ururu-chan," Urahara gushed as he slid over to the cart.

Ichigo watched as the blond lifted a thick-materialed, one-piece jumper into the air. The suit had knee pads connected to it and it was all black. Urahara handed it over to him and waited while Ichigo gingerly took it and stared at it, unsure of what he was supposed to do with it.

"Put it on, Kurosaki-san. Slip it over your clothes and zip it. It's not very hard," Urahara goaded, knowing exactly how to spur Ichigo into motion.

Ichigo snarled silently and stuffed himself into the suit, which was surprisingly, not as heavy as it had first appeared. Next, Urahara handed him something that looked like a motorcycle helmet, the eye section clear rather than tinted. Ichigo studied it for a second before fitting it over his head and adjusting it comfortably. When he saw what he was handed next, his heart leaped in his chest and he almost whooped for joy.

Urahara handed him what could only be a paintball gun, the handle thick and black, tapering into a long, slim, silver barrel. He reverently ran his hands over the oblong container connected to the top of the barrel and smiled. Ichigo could hardly contain his excitement. _Urahara had just made his fucking year_. Then he sagged with depression when he saw who was striding towards him from the bleachers, slowly, yet confidently. Ichigo didn't know much about the man, but he wasn't blind and he'd seen the twin pistols hidden in the depths of his leather jacket when they were in the other room.

_Fuck_.

_Yeah, he wanted to paintball and have fun, but where was the fun when all you had to look forward to was being demolished by an expert marksman?_

Ichigo wasn't foolish enough to believe that Starrk was anything less than an expert with his guns, lazy behavior be damned.

Starrk came up beside Ichigo and gave him a small grin. "You ever shoot a gun before, kid?" he asked, his ridiculously deep voice shaking Ichigo's nerves like a rattle.

He bristled, annoyed at the older man's tone and insinuation. "Yeah," he answered stiffly, averting his gaze from those piercing, arctic gray eyes.

Starrk chuckled and slid into his suit and helmet, then picked up the remaining gun. "Well, show me what ya got," he stated before disappearing much the way Yoruichi had.

The room went black and Ichigo's heart began racing with anticipation. The only thing he could see were small, neon green and orange splotches against what he assumed were the rocks from earlier. A swift movement to his left made him duck and roll out of the way, just in time to dodge a flying splatter of neon green paint.

"Don't let your guard down, kid," Starrk's deep voice echoed and Ichigo grinned.

"Not a chance, Old Man," he retorted.

_This was sure to be fun_.

**Til next time! Hope this was satisfactory after such a long wait!**


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Woot! Hitting another ten chapter mark! Sorry for the long wait!**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo pressed his back against one of the jagged rocks sticking up through the floor of the large training room, his breathing labored and heart moving faster than a speeding bullet. He'd known that Starrk would be an expert marksman, but what he'd experienced within the last ten minutes, had to be a record of some sort. After rolling out of the way of the first glob of neon green paint, Ichigo had had to duck-walk over to the nearest rock, just to dodge the volley of paint splatters flying towards him faster than an Uzi's report.

The rock had turned out to offer no reprieve because as soon as he'd made himself comfortable and moved to glance around in hopes that he could somehow see the tall brunet, Starrk had appeared right in front of him. The only way he'd known the man was even there was because he felt the slight pressure of the barrel of the man's paintball gun against his ribs. Squeaking in surprise, he'd managed to just miss being littered with paint splotches by again rolling out of the way and behind another rock.

Starrk had merely laughed and taunted him again. "You're not gonna get anywhere just runnin' away, Kid," he rumbled, voice reminding Ichigo of distant thunder.

He hadn't even been able to respond, his breath leaving him in deep, colossal gulps that made his chest heave and his throat burn like he'd just downed a shot of whiskey. The next few minutes had been a repeat performance of the initial scene: Ichigo dodging Starrk and Starrk finding him no matter where he tried to hide, even though the room was dark as pitch.

_This wasn't going to work_.

It was more than obvious that Starrk was toying with him and the thought not only annoyed Ichigo, but it pissed him off. _He wasn't about to tolerate someone making a fool of him, marksman or not_. His anger surged through him and he could actually pinpoint the precise moment everything seemed to sharpen and focus. His breathing became even, his heart rate slowed, his vision seemed to adjust to the darkness and the heightened sense of smell and hearing was back.

Ichigo was beginning to understand that his superior senses were mainly due to his emotions; for instance, when he had been feeling afraid or angry, they had kicked in. It was a nifty little trick and he would be the first to say that even though it creeped him out, it still made for an excellent advantage.

Just then, Ichigo smelled the faint, yet unmistakable scent of gunpowder and knew that Starrk was closing in on him. Since it appeared that the brunet had the same disappearing ability as Yoruichi, Ichigo would have to modify his strategy, which at the moment only consisted of barely made escapes. Ichigo closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings. After a second that seemed more like a minute, he heard Starrk's paint-balling attire shifting as he moved too rapidly for the naked eye to see. That, accompanied with the soft scent of gunpowder, was enough for him to accurately distinguish the exact spot Starrk would appear. Using the knowledge to his prevalence, Ichigo quickly mapped out a plan.

He had about twenty seconds before Starrk would appear before him, so taking an outrageously extreme gamble, he hurried out of his jumper and propped it against the rock he'd been leaning against, disappearing behind it right after, clutching his gun to his side. Ichigo felt like a cat, his eyes picking up everything in the dark, including the spectators located on the bleachers, who were watching the game of paintball tag through night vision goggles.

Where the hell they had gotten the high tech equipment from, was beyond Ichigo at the moment.

Starrk sifted into place and just as Ichigo expected, pointed his gun at the dark jumper. Ichigo didn't waste a breath hesitating; instead, he eased his gun from behind the rock and pumped off a series of paint splatters. An alarm went off, shrieking through the cavernous room and nearly making his ears bleed in the process. Red police car-like lights sprang to life from the tops of all the jagged rocks, making him squint as he covered his ears to block the offending noise that sounded like a high-pitched voice wailing incessantly.

The regular fluorescent lights were activated and the alarm and red lights immediately ceased moving and shrieking, for which Ichigo was eternally grateful. In his condition, the blaring alarm and rapidly revolving lights were enough to give him a migraine. Ichigo didn't move from behind the rock, but Urahara's voice managed to lure him from his hiding spot with three statements. "My, my...what an interesting turn of events. I must admit, I hadn't seen this coming."

Ichigo first peered cautiously around the rock and what he saw made him grin triumphantly. _His decidedly reckless plan had been successful_. Starrk stood staring down at Ichigo's discarded jumper, his normally impassive face slack with shock. His gun hung loosely at his side and his free hand was on the back of his head. His stance and demeanor absolutely _screamed_ confusion. Ichigo's grin morphed into an all-out, toothy smirk as he stepped from his hiding place.

Starrk glanced up at him and narrowed his eyes in an almost menacing way. "Why didn't I hear you?" he asked.

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I don't know about that, but you're not the only one that can move fast when the need moves them."

"Huhn," Starrk grunted as he handed Urahara his paintball gun.

Ichigo hadn't noticed during his moment of triumph that the dark-haired girl with the dark-blue eyes and strange bang, had reappeared with her cart. Once he did, though, he tossed his gun onto it and stretched his arms above his head, his heightened state slowly dissipating. He wished he could manipulate the extra sensory boost at will, but for now, he was merely getting used to it.

"Well, Kurosaki-kun, I think it's time we take things up a notch, yes?" Urahara interjected as Starrk opened his mouth to say something else.

Ichigo wanted to sigh and even stomp in frustration. He was fucking tired and all these tests that Urahara was putting him through were getting on his nerves. "Tch. I'm thirsty. Why can't I take a break?" he grumbled petulantly.

Urahara studied him for a moment, his dark eyes mysterious as usual before he nodded and whipped out that annoying paper fan of his. He waved it past his face a few times, then turned to the girl that was in charge of the cart. "Ururu-chan, can you bring something for Kurosaki-kun to drink?"

Ururu nodded and meandered off with her cart, her small body moving with a strange, cat-like grace that raised Ichigo's suspicions. The aura surrounding her appeared sad and innocent, but there was an underlying _something_ that made him curious.

In the meantime, the bleachers' occupants had removed their goggles and were in the process of burning holes into Ichigo's head. Nnoitra and Shirosaki wore twin grins that sent ice chips careening down his spine and made him shudder uncomfortably. He avoided their gazes, but was met with strangely intense looks from the man Ichigo had dubbed "the Villain" and from the short, green-eyed man, whose eyes seemed like something out of a sci-fi flick.

He didn't know what to make of why they were staring at him like that, so he moved on, his gaze traveling to the blond, who would forever be known as "Shin-chan" in Ichigo's eyes. Shin-chan merely gave him a bland look, proving that he really didn't give a fuck what was going on. Ichigo wanted to smile and thank the man, but thought better of it when his eyes inevitably landed on piercing blue.

Grimmjow's eyes were taking him apart and the look on the blue-haired man's face was frightening, to say the least. His perfect lips were curled back in a hostile snarl and his luminescent eyes glittered ominously. Everything about Grimmjow, at the moment, read murder-death-kill and Ichigo was more than happy to break their visual contact, another shudder ripping down his back.

He didn't even bother looking at the rest of the bleachers' occupants, by now put off by what he'd already seen. The sound of the huge, metal door they'd entered through hissing shut, drew his attention. The girl, Ururu, had returned, carrying a bottle of spring water and what looked like a damp towel. Ichigo could feel his mouth watering and his body twitching in anticipation of the relief both items would provide.

Urahara stood silently beside him, watching him and inherently unnerving him. Ichigo didn't like the way the older blond man seemed to dissect him with his careful observing. It reminded him too much of the way Dr. Grantz had eyed him on several occasions, not to mention, brought up the distressing period he'd experienced in the man's lab on top of his operating table. Ichigo swallowed forcefully and accepted the bottle of water from Ururu, grateful to have it and eager to down it.

He quickly discarded the cap and drank half the bottle in one go, his eyes sliding shut happily as the cold liquid coated his esophagus and lined his stomach. He'd almost completely forgotten about his surroundings until Urahara interrupted his thoughts.

"Kurosaki-kun, I'll be giving you a break for the rest of the evening. I understand that your body isn't accustomed to the changes you've apparently undergone, so rest for now and we'll resume the testing tomorrow morning. How is that?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He'd learned not to take everything Urahara said at face value. "What's the catch?"

Urahara grinned. "There's no catch. I'd just like to have you at your full potential for tomorrow's testing. Your opponent will be much more difficult to deal with, I can assure you."

"Wait! You already know who I'm going to be, er...testing against?" Ichigo asked, curiosity piqued.

Urahara gave him another one of his infamous, mysterious smiles from behind his paper fan. "Of course I do." Ichigo arched a brow and waited for the man to realize that that simple statement wasn't enough to slake his inquisitiveness. Urahara maintained his grin as he said, "You'll be facing me tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun, so rest up."

With that, the blond swept out of the training room, Uryuu and Ururu following close on his heels. The room's door was left open so the rest of the occupants could exit as well, Ichigo assumed, but his head was still reeling pretty harshly.

_How the hell could Urahara drop a bomb on him like that and then just walk away as if he'd only commented on the weather?_

_Because he's nuts, that's how_, Ichigo thought sullenly.

_Now what? Did he prepare? But how could he prepare for something he had no idea of?_ And that was certainly the case in this instance. There was no way he knew what Urahara had in mind for him.

Ichigo glanced over at the bleachers one last time and winced when he saw Grimmjow striding in his direction rather swiftly, large hands fisted at his sides.

_This didn't bode well at all_.

XOXOXO

"I am not pleased with this development at all, Grantz-san."

"I apologize, Aizen-sama. To say it wasn't my fault would be remiss, as well as an insult. I can only say that I will take steps to prevent such an instance from reoccurring."

The tall, intimidating brunet, seated behind a large mahogany desk, leaned his elbow on the edge of it and nonchalantly rested his chin in his palm. A lock of hair wound its way down the middle of his face, but did nothing to take away from his impeccable appearance, consisting of a stark white suit, black dress shirt and black tie. His brown eyes were cold and calculating as they regarded Szayel Aporro Grantz, with an undercurrent of maliciousness that made the pink-haired doctor swallow uneasily as he fought the acute urge to fidget.

_And he was NOT a fidgeting man_.

"You _will_ find the key and bring him here. I will not accept failure this time. Is that understood?" Aizen asked, his voice deadly calm, but the glittering in his eyes relaying his upset.

Szayel bowed deeply and once he straightened his back, nodded. "Yes, Aizen-sama."

Aizen waved a hand in dismissal and Szayel had to force himself not to flee the spacious office. He did, however, quickly leave the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself. He immediately retrieved his cell from the pocket of the dark-blue pea coat he wore and dialed his partner as he made his way to the elevator. The phone rang three times before a lilting tenor answered.

"Mayuri speaking."

"Have you started Operation Recovery?" he snapped, taking his anger out on the first person he could.

Szayel boarded the empty elevator as soon as it dinged onto the twentieth floor, then stabbed the button that would take him to the parking garage. "Of course. I've reprogrammed Tousen and added Ichimaru-kun to the team. Why are you so snippy?" Mayuri asked innocently, as if he had no idea why Szayel was pissed.

"Don't ask stupid questions! Send them to the target's home; I'm sure he'll end up there soon enough. And Mayuri?"

"Yes?"

"Don't fuck this up! Make sure the team knows not to kill the target, no matter the circumstances. Our failure will mean dire consequences."

Mayuri huffed and ended the connection, making Szayel curse as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing the eerily quiet parking garage. He briskly strode to his car, unlocking it with the keypad alarm.

He hoped he'd relayed the urgency of their situation to his carefree partner. Mayuri was a genius, but he was too lax when it came to authority, the authority being Aizen.

Szayel sighed as he bonelessly slid into his silver, 2010 Lincoln MKZ and started it up. He had the beginnings of a headache and he hoped beyond hope that Mayuri would come through with this new program of his. If they didn't retrieve Ichigo Kurosaki, they would both be discarded, as simply as if throwing away a used napkin.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow balled up his fists and made his way over to Ichigo. He was still peeved that he couldn't understand what the hell was going through the kid's mind, but now he was incensed at seeing him deal with two obviously strong people as if they were nothing. _It ticked him the hell off and he was going to get to the bottom of this little issue right fucking now_.

Ichigo watched him warily, copper-colored eyes following his every move. The earnest way Ichigo tracked his advance made him inwardly smile. _At least the guy still had the decency to have some type of caution when it came to him_. Grimmjow wouldn't tolerate complete disregard when not even a few days ago, Ichigo had been scared to death of him.

Grimmjow's long-legged stride ate up the distance between Ichigo and himself and by the time he reached the shorter man, he felt like he was on the verge of foaming at the mouth, he was so angry. Ichigo raised his head and locked eyes with him, his pointed chin tilting defiantly. Grimmjow sneered and stared back. He didn't like the high-handed way Ichigo was regarding him and all because Director Psychopath and Mayuri had ruined him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ichigo asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Grimmjow grinned wolfishly. "Look who grew a pair overnight," he said softly. Ichigo arched a fine orange brow at him, but remained silent, so he continued. "Why can' I hear you anymore?" he asked, bringing up what he felt was the more pressing issue.

Ichigo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his bronze eyes shut. "I don't fucking know!" he snapped, his eyes still shut.

"Don'-" he started, but Ichigo held up a hand and cut him off.

"Grimmjow, I really, really, really don't know why you can't hear my thoughts anymore. Frankly, I don't care. It's actually a helluva relief to know that you aren't in there poking around where you don't belong."

Grimmjow was speechless, too livid to think straight. _Who the fuck did Ichigo think he was talking to like that?_ He clenched his teeth together and glared at the shorter man, debating whether he should fuck him until he screamed before he decided to detach his beautiful head from his shoulders. He had just settled on a decision when Ichigo tilted his head to the side and rubbed the tip of his straight nose, eyes holding a glinting curiosity.

"Why does it bother you so much? Are you that dependent on your ability?"

The question surprised Grimmjow. He had been expecting a slick comment about his behavior, maybe even Ichigo making the mistake of calling him the c-word, but instead, he'd asked a simple question, completely throwing him off. He didn't know what to make of the orange-haired man anymore. Grimmjow had already been confused about his reactions when it came to the younger man, but now the feeling was even more intense.

_Was he totally dependent on his ability?_ Shinji had once commented that Grimmjow used his ability as a crutch and although, at the time, he hadn't given a shit, now, faced with the statement again, he wasn't so sure what to think. He _did_ rely heavily on his telepathy and telekinesis. _Did that mean that that was all he was? _

_So many questions_.

They made him think and he really hated thinking and dwelling on a topic. He was far more suited for finding a solution and being rid of the issue in an expeditious manner, not sitting and pondering its depths. Grimmjow wrinkled his nose in agitation and gave Ichigo a short look. "I don' know how ta answer that," he grunted, angry at his inability to do so.

He felt weak and that was a word that he'd never associated with himself before.

He didn't intend to start either.

Ichigo studied him a few seconds more before casually shrugging and making his way to the door of the training room. Grimmjow, unsure of how to proceed, but knowing that he still wanted to talk to the man, followed behind him, his head still reeling uncomfortably. He was still pretty peeved about not being able to hear what Ichigo was thinking, as well as his inability to keep him under his telekinesis, but maybe he could revise his strategy of getting things back to where they were when Ichigo was afraid of him.

He loved the way the orange-haired man looked when he was shitting bricks. It made Grimmjow feel strong and intimidating, like nothing could stop him or stand in the way of what he wanted. Maybe that was why he was so disoriented and angry about his plight with Ichigo. He had never been confronted with the possibility of a person being able to withstand his telekinesis and being more or less impervious to his telepathy.

_Not to mention, he felt rather slighted_.

He'd liked listening to Ichigo's thoughts. The man's mind had been like an open book; everything that passed through had been broadcast like a flight announcement. Grimmjow had immensely enjoyed hearing how attracted Ichigo was to him; now, he was lucky to put together anything that he heard.

Gritting his teeth, he continued to follow Ichigo out of the room, wondering if the younger man had any idea where he was going. Just then, Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and frowned at him. "Why are you following me?"

Grimmjow had had it up to here with the reckless way Ichigo was addressing him. Just because the little shit could hold his own in a scuffle now and just because Grimmjow couldn't hear all the shit that he was thinking, the bastard thought he was hot stuff. "I c'n do what I want."

Ichigo shocked him with an amused grin. "You're right. So, what? You gonna follow me all night?" he tossed over his shoulder before turning to face forward again.

Grimmjow scowled, but inwardly he was wondering the same thing. There was something that drew him to Ichigo like a bug to fluorescent lighting, but he'd be damned if he admitted that shit aloud. "I might," he replied with a saucy smirk.

..._don't mind_..._be nice_..._fuck_..._for real_...

Grimmjow's scowl deepened as he tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. _If he took the words at face value, then it seemed like Ichigo didn't mind him following behind him and maybe even doing a lot more than just following him_. Never having been one for holding his tongue, he pursed his lips briefly before asking, "Fuck what fer real? And what dontcha mind?"

Ichigo's eyes widened as he spun around and stared at him in disbelief. Grimmjow grinned. _Had he stumbled upon something interesting?_ Full lips parted, immediately drawing Grimmjow's attention, but no words passed them. Ichigo opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, until Grimmjow snapped his fingers in his face.

Blinking owlishly, Ichigo visibly swallowed and licked those enticing lips, making Grimmjow grit his teeth. He wanted to do very naughty things to Ichigo, but since he was changing his game plan, he would have to go about carrying them out differently, in a more round about way, which was something he was totally unprepared for.

"What did you just say?"

"Tch! Ya heard what I said, stop stallin'!"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, but was unable to successfully rid his face of its previous shocked expression. "That's none of your business," the orange-haired man muttered and turned on his heel, heading down the hall to only kami knew where.

"Where the fuck ya goin'?" Grimmjow asked, disgruntled.

"To sleep! I'm tired!" Ichigo snapped without looking over his shoulder.

Grimmjow growled under his breath, terribly tempted to wrap his hands around Ichigo's throat again and squeeze until his lungs collapsed. Instead, he quietly trailed behind the other man, inwardly fuming. Ichigo wound through a large hall, bypassing the room they'd all been gathered in about an hour or so ago. They passed a few other rooms and from the quick glances Grimmjow afforded the insides of these rooms, he realized that everyone had been paired off and sent to share rooms.

He'd noticed the violet-haired woman, Yoruichi, and the ice-bitch, Halibel, sitting in one room, while Shiro and the tall fucker, Nnoitra, had been in another. _That had been weird_. Grimmjow figured he'd be sharing a room with Shinji or Corky since Shiro was already paired up, but as they strolled past another room, that thought was flushed down the drain. He stopped in the doorway, confused at what he was seeing. Shinji was draped across a twin-sized bed in a moderately-sized room, with beige walls and beige carpeting on the floor, but he wasn't alone. The tall, gray-eyed brunet was poured over another twin-sized bed on the other side of the room, his arms up and covering his face.

"What the hell is goin' on?" he snapped, making Shinji's head snap in his direction.

His blond friend shook his head slowly and waved a hand dismissively. "That Urahara guy is makin' us share rooms with people we don' know. We're supposed ta get ta know each other," he said, tone carefree.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to protest, when he realized Ichigo had continued his trek without him. Slamming his mouth shut, he ignored Shinji's comment and hurriedly caught up with the orange-haired man. The small girl with the odd bang was standing in front of an empty room that contained two twin-sized beds, much like the room in which he'd seen Shinji sitting. The girl moved from in front of the door and just as she disappeared from sight, Urahara appeared, wide, infernal grin firmly in place while he utilized that ancient-looking paper fan.

Grimmjow thought the damned thing was all kinds of unnecessary.

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun, Jaegerjaques-san. This is your room. I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a room with Jaegerjaques-san, considering you seem to be the only one absolutely immune to his ability, Kurosaki-kun."

Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo and noticed that his back was stiff as a board and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides. "Are you fucking serious?" was ground through Ichigo's teeth with a forced effort.

Urahara smiled cordially, dark, mysterious eyes crinkling in the corners. "Of course. Have a good evening, Kurosaki-kun," he said and floated away down the hall.

Grimmjow smirked smugly, knowing that it meant he would be spending the night with Ichigo, if nothing else. _He would get down to the bottom of what was going on, for sure_.

Ichigo slowly turned to face him, syrupy brown eyes on fire with determination and sternness. "You _will_ stay on your side of the room!" he snapped.

Grimmjow tipped his head back and barked a laugh. "If ya say so, Berry," he mumbled.

Ichigo hesitated for a brief second before marching into the room they would be sharing for kami knew what reason, his movements mechanical. Grimmjow snorted, but inwardly thanked his lucky stars for the strange turn of events as he traipsed into the pale purple room behind Ichigo.

..._the fuck_..._don't believe_..._asshole_...

Grimmjow chuckled as he flopped onto the twin-sized bed against the east wall of the room. He kicked his sneakers off and put his feet up, propping his head on his arms as he glanced over at Ichigo. Ichigo did the same, but in the process gave Grimmjow a most withering glare that made him laugh out loud again.

_This was going to be fun as hell_.

**Thanks for reading! **

**Til next time!**

**Racey~**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**Holy cow! I know. It's been forever. I apologize...**

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo lay on the twin-sized bed across from the dangerous, more than likely crazy as shit Grimmjow, and stared up at the ceiling. How the hell had his life come to this? Before he'd started working at that damned mental institute, his life had been fairly normal. Of course, he'd had his share of troubles; take Karin's situation, for instance, but that had been nothing compared to what he was going through now. He would give anything to go back to how things had been before he'd met Dr. Grantz and Grimmjow and the rest of the people he'd unfortunately crossed paths with at Hueco Mundo. Especially the Las Noches ward.

Ichigo sighed and rested his hands on his stomach. He felt like tossing and turning until he fell asleep, but he was too wired and anxious, wondering where things would take him. He had a computer chip lodged at the base of his skull that no one knew the purpose of and it kind of frightened him. _No, scratch that._ It scared the shit out of him. He didn't know if it was rigged to self-destruct if he did something wrong...or what. Not only that, but he apparently had some new-found abilities that enhanced all of his senses whenever he was upset, afraid or just extremely focused.

How was he supposed to go back to being just normal old Ichigo?

The right side of his bed shifted and made him jerk from his thoughts, only to turn and come eye to eye with a widely grinning Grimmjow. Ichigo wanted to fly from the bed in a panic, but swallowed it and glared at the blue-haired cretin instead.

"Why the fuck are you in my bed?" he snapped.

Grimmjow's grin just widened and grew more filthy. The hairs on Ichigo's body became erect as the man edged closer, his body hot and solid as a rock. Those old feelings of lust were rearing their heads and nudging Ichigo towards Grimmjow and his maniacal grin. Ichigo wanted to shake his head and plaster himself to the wall, those old feelings of wariness and fear creeping over him as well. He took a deep breath and continued glaring at Grimmjow, hoping the insane man would get the picture and vacate Ichigo's bed post-haste.

He didn't.

Grimmjow's hand came up, his fingers tracing the side of Ichigo's face. Ichigo froze like an ice sculpture. Not this again. It seemed like no matter what he did, Grimmjow had the ability to turn Ichigo into body butter, whether it was by touch or just by speaking in that low, dark tone: it all made Ichigo pretty useless.

"I don' gotta answer that, right?" Grimmjow asked and dammit his voice was downright sinful.

Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, completely forgetting that he was mad at the prick, and that said prick was totally off his fucking rocker. "Why do you keep harassing me?"

Grimmjow snorted and rolled his luminous blue eyes. "It ain't harassment when it's encouraged, yeah?"

"I-I..." Ichigo's voice trailed off as he realized he had no comeback for that one. What was he going to say? That he didn't encourage Grimmjow's behavior? That was a big, fat lie and he knew it, so why go that route?

"See? Ya know ya want me, so wha's the point in fightin' it?"

Ichigo had to admit that if he went along that line of logic, his clothes would be in a neat pile beside the bed and Grimmjow would be having his merry way with him. _However_, he wasn't completely clouded by lust. If he made the mistake of having sex with the deranged Grimmjow, he was sure he could kiss his sanity – not to mention his peace of mind – goodbye. Grimmjow would never give him a moment's rest – not that he did to begin with, but still...

Ichigo knew better.

"I'm not fucking you," he said deliberately.

He watched a bit nervously as Grimmjow's eyes darkened and his mouth turned down in the corners. Yet, instead of the storm that Ichigo was sure was brewing behind those glacial orbs, Grimmjow merely pouted like a scolded child.

"Why not?" he asked, his baritone voice a surprising whine. Then, it deepened as he got closer and ran the pad of his thumb across Ichigo's cheek. "I promise it'd be fun."

Ichigo shuddered, realizing that Grimmjow could probably make good on that promise several times over without even breaking a sweat. _Not fair._ He carefully backed away from the entirely too tempting man laying beside him and took another deep breath. He could do this.

"I don't think I wanna go there with you, Grimmjow."

"I ain't dangerous, Ichigo," Grimmjow growled before smirking conspiratorially. "At least not to you. Not anymore, anyway."

Ichigo also couldn't deny that. Since he'd discovered his new abilities, Grimmjow's danger level had gone way down. It was a relief in a sense, but Ichigo knew better than to let his guard slip around the man. He sighed and pressed his back against the wall, still uncertain of how he should get out of his current situation.

Grimmjow just grinned and edged a bit closer, bringing that warm, hard body within hugging distance. "Ya know somethin'? Before, I was so ready ta jus' fuck ya, then kill ya. Now, I don' wanna kill ya so much. Wonder why that is?"

The tone of Grimmjow's voice made it sound like he was musing to himself aloud, so Ichigo didn't have an answer ready. Not that he would have in the first place. What did one reply to a statement like that? Grimmjow's hand came up and a rough thumb feathered across Ichigo's bottom lip. Eyes wide, all Ichigo could do was tremble and hope that Grimmjow didn't notice it. Unfortunately, even though Grimmjow seemed to no longer be able to read his thoughts word for word, he could still put a few things together.

"An' tha's what I don' understand, Ichigo. Ya want me so bad, yer shakin'. It's OK to give in. I promise I won' hurtcha," the blue-haired devil said with a dark grin.

"I'm not concerned with that, Grimmjow. What I don't get is why you keep bugging _me_. I mean, there are plenty of other guys – or girls, if that's your flavor – that you can sleep with. Why does it have to be _me_? I'm nothing special."

"That ain't true an' you know it. Yer plenty special. Yer not like everyone else that puts me down an' calls me crazy. Ya _like_ me. Know how I know?" Ichigo shook his head, unwilling to entertain the thought trying to form in his brain. "'Cuz it's all in yer eyes. Those eyes..." Grimmjow's low murmur trailed off as he ran that same thumb over the crease in the corner of Ichigo's left eye. "I love an' hate yer eyes. Sometimes they're jus' what I want: hot and lusty. Other times, they tick me off when ya go all defiant and shit. Yer like a worm on a hook around me. Ya writhe around and deny the fact that ya've already been caught, an' I gotta say, that's really gettin' old."

Ichigo was stuck again, hypnotized by Grimmjow's hungry blue gaze that held a tinge of derangement. How on Earth was he supposed to respond to this man? He didn't know what to do. Not to mention, in a sense, Grimmjow was right. Ichigo had known better when he'd been working at Hueco Mundo than to allow himself to be seduced by a patient, but Grimmjow's exotic good looks, sinful voice and unusual abilities had thrown him off. Ruined his sense of reality.

Would it really be considered sleeping with the enemy since Grimmjow no longer had his heart set on killing Ichigo off?

What was he supposed to _do_?

Ichigo lowered his eyes to Grimmjow's tempting lips. They were so close and it wasn't like he didn't already know what those lips tasted like. What they felt like. He knew firsthand how sensual it was to be touched and kissed by Grimmjow, no matter how unhinged he was. Insane or not, the man was an excellent kisser. Which meant he had to have great potential as a lover. Right? Ichigo swallowed nervously and put a hand on Grimmjow's broad shoulder, steadying himself. Before he could do anything else, however, Grimmjow spoke up.

"I like where yer thoughts're goin'," he rumbled.

"Just be quiet for a minute, would you?"

That made the man's eyes flash dangerously, but Ichigo needed to know something. He put his free hand on Grimmjow's other shoulder, then brought their bodies closer by scooting his hips forward and pressing their chests together. Grimmjow remained silent, but there was a riot going on in his Egyptian blue eyes. _They're so damned noisy_, Ichigo thought. Somehow, he managed to ignore them and entangle his legs with Grimmjow's longer ones. God, the man was so comfortable. Ichigo fit next to him perfectly and it did nothing to help his state of mind. Grimmjow's breathing was deep and even, like he was concentrating, and maybe he was. Ichigo wasn't sure. All he knew was that he could feel those breaths against his cheeks and nose and it was turning him on.

Why was he so attracted to a man like Grimmjow? What could possibly be born of anything between them, except sex?

Ichigo started to lower his hands, courage failing him, but Grimmjow reached up and gripped both of his wrists before he could. "You were doin' so good. Don' stop now," he said quietly.

Ichigo made the mistake of looking into those swirling blue irises again, and that was when he tumbled down the rabbit hole. Grimmjow was his white rabbit and for some strange reason – that went against his better judgment – Ichigo was prepared to follow the man wherever he went. It was ludicrous. It was madness.

It was _delicious_.

The thrill of doing something he wasn't supposed to, something that went completely against the grain of everything he knew was right and ethical made him light-headed and almost giddy. What was going on? Shouldn't he be in the process of getting Grimmjow _out_ of his bed?

"No."

Ichigo jerked, shocked. He'd completely forgotten for the moment that Grimmjow could still hear _some_ of his thoughts.

"I ain't goin' nowhere," the blue-haired man continued, voice going lower as he went on. "I don' care if I gotta fight ya for it."

Ichigo felt like he should have been upset – even angry – about Grimmjow's aggression, but all he could do was laugh. Bright blue eyebrows went up and those enchanting blue eyes turned heated.

"I have a feeling you really would, too."

"Don' doubt it."

Ichigo lowered his voice and dangerously edged closer to the other man until they were nose to nose. "Oh, I'm not," he murmured.

Throwing caution to the birds, he initiated the first contact of lips. Grimmjow grunted in surprise, but recovered in record time, his big hand coming up to grip the back of Ichigo's head. Even though Ichigo had been the one to initiate the contact, Grimmjow made sure to be the one to deepen it. He opened his mouth and ran that steamy tongue across the orange-haired man's bottom lip before dipping it through the slightly parted seam. Ichigo thought he was prepared for the onslaught of heat that usually followed kissing Grimmjow, but how wrong he was. It was like hot oil being stirred in his gut, then spread across his groin and abdomen. It was unfair how easily he was turned on by the blue-haired man.

His body immediately formed a mind of its own as his hands landed on Grimmjow's broad shoulders. He rubbed his palms over the soft material of the other man's t-shirt, enjoying the feel of hardened muscle under a cottony disguise. His fingers searched every dip and angle they ran across until Grimmjow made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded close to growl, but was probably more of a moan. Ichigo returned the sentiment, his hands growing bolder. He curved them around Grimmjow's upper arms, then over to the man's solid chest. What the hell was he doing? Unsure, but also unwilling to stop the waterfall of sensations, Ichigo continued his exploration. His palms feathered over the other man's nipples, a grin touching his lips when he realized they were already hardened. He started to up the ante and go for more erotic places, but was suddenly flipped completely onto his back, air leaving his lungs in a surprised rush. He stared up at the blue-haired man above him and swallowed nervously. Had he done something wrong?

"No. I jus' like this view better," Grimmjow answered.

Ichigo frowned, still not used to the man invading his thoughts (although, he should've been by now). "Well, how d'ya know I wanna be down here?"

"Down where? Yer not down anywhere...yet."

The resulting grin that crossed Grimmjow's face was oddly intriguing. It didn't leave that sticky feeling of "I'm about to die" in Ichigo's chest, so he was able to enjoy it. He knew this was totally wrong, but he really couldn't help himself when it came to the slightly unhinged man. He set something on fire inside of Ichigo and there was no avoiding or getting around it. So, why not embrace it?

"I don' cuddle," Grimmjow snapped, blue eyes going frigid.

"Maybe if you were listening correctly, you would have known I wasn't talking about cuddling! Idiot!"

That scary, wolf grin was back this time, but Ichigo refused to shy away from it. Grimmjow had already informed him that he didn't intend to kill him anymore, so didn't that mean Ichigo had nothing to fear from him? Not only that, but he could obviously take care of himself, the taller man's ability be damned.

"Maybe if there wasn't a road block in yer mind, I wouldn' be havin' this problem in the first place."

"And that's my fault how?"

"Never said that, Ichigo. Now, shut up and lay back."

"I'm already laying back."

"Ya hafta be a prick about this, dontcha?"

"No, but I gotta admit, it's fun."

"I'll show ya fun," Grimmjow muttered before lowering his head to Ichigo's neck.

There he began softly kissing before licking teasingly and sucking gently. It was the complete opposite of what Ichigo had imagined. Instead of the rough assertiveness Grimmjow had always used, in its place was tenderness. It was strange but thrilling. Ichigo reached up and put a hand at the back of that head of bright blue hair, his fingers sliding the glossy strands between them. Grimmjow picked his head up from its spot and gave him that intriguing grin again.

"Like that?" the man grunted and Ichigo nodded.

"Yeah. Don't stop."

"Now, why would I do that?"

Ichigo shrugged, but pulled Grimmjow into a kiss. He'd been wanting to feel the man's lips again for some time, now; he just hadn't had the courage to go for it, considering previously the man had been strong enough to kill him with just a hand gesture.

"Stop thinkin' like that," Grimmjow interrupted, drawing back from the kiss. "It's distractin'."

Ichigo nodded, almost willing to agree to anything just to feel those enticing lips on his again. Grimmjow didn't hesitate, either. His lips came down quickly, but softly. Not in the bruising manner they had when Ichigo had been working in the convenience store, and even Hueco Mundo. This was dangerous. The former patient was unpredictable even with his ability negated somewhat. Ichigo gave a mental shrug and threw himself into the steamy kiss. Grimmjow's lips were soft and surprisingly pliant when they wanted to be. They slanted over his, the pace gradually picking up and becoming more urgent as the tension rose. The blue-haired man's hips were grinding against his and Ichigo could _feel_ just how badly the guy wanted to do much more than kiss.

Things were taken up a notch when big hands went underneath Ichigo's shirt and none too gently lifted over his head. Ichigo winced when it caught under his chin, but the moment was shoved aside when soft lips and a hot tongue languidly traveled over his chest. He closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him like warm water. Grimmjow's mouth was everywhere it seemed. His nipples, between his pectorals, under them, down his abdomen, teasing his navel, then testing the area right above the waistband of his underwear. Ichigo shuddered, his hand going back to the taller man's hair. Grimmjow glanced up and gave that nice grin again, eyes melting into blue pudding. Before he could ask what the change of behavior was all about, the blue-haired man yanked at Ichigo's pants, making them catch around his knees.

He was erect as hell and Grimmjow had pulled so hard on his pants, he'd tugged his underwear down as well. So, Ichigo lay bare before the other man's hungry gaze, hands itching to cover himself. Especially when all the guy did was stare at his junk like it was a winning lottery ticket. Thankfully, the staring didn't last long because Grimmjow lowered his head and wasted no time pulling him into his furnace of a mouth. Ichigo's back arched off the bed, his head swimming. He hadn't had this done in a very long time, and the abrupt way the blue-haired man had gone about it made him dizzy and drunk with arousal. It felt so _good_. Hell, all he could do was grunt and breathe. Grunt and breathe. Great. Now he sounded like an injured moose. The fingers in Grimmjow's hair tightened involuntarily when the man began a steady rhythm, blue eyes closed and face serious. Ichigo watched in fascination as those lips descended, then ascended, wrapped tightly around his length.

It was amazing. Mind-blowing even.

He never thought he'd see the formerly mental patient on his knees, sucking him off. It was something that only occurred in Ichigo's dreams, where everything was fantasy and make-believe. Where dragons could fit in the palm of your hand and mice were the size of dinosaurs. Too good to be true. Besides, he would have thought that Grimmjow would consider himself too proud to get to his knees. Guess he was wrong.

He couldn't stop staring, either. The taller man looked like he was in heaven, eyes closed and expression delighted. Picture a kid with his favorite flavored ice cream cone. Yeah, just like that. Ichigo's fingers grew spastic, twitching and tightening on their own the faster and harder Grimmjow sucked and laved. It was almost painful, it felt so good. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry, so instead, he settled for moaning uncontrollably. Rough fingers gripped the base of his dick, making his eyes jump open. No, no, no! He knew what that meant!

"What're you doin'?" he croaked, voice unfamiliar from the haze of lust that had settled in the back of his throat.

Grimmjow sat back, letting Ichigo's flesh go. "I don' want ya ta come yet."

Ichigo whimpered and tossed his head back against the pillow. "Not fair," he groaned.

"I think it is. Ya've been such a tease, makin' me chase ya fer so long. It's yer turn now."

"What's that supposed to mean? You want me to chase you?"

"Nah. But I like fuckin' witcha, so ya gotta deal wit' that."

Again Ichigo whimpered, this time closing his eyes. He had been enjoying himself so much. Why did Grimmjow have to be such an asshole? He put a hand over his eyes and tried to catch his breath, inwardly cursing the chuckling man between his legs. Before he could, however, Grimmjow had his mouth on his shaft again, this time more aggressively than the last time. The pulling heat and clutching slickness made his heart throb and his blood roar. Made his mouth and throat dry like he was inhaling desert air. His hand automatically went back to the other man's hair, this time tugging desperately. He wanted to come and even if he had to race against Grimmjow's sadism, then, dammit, he would. His hips lurched in time to the man's energetic sucks and molten heat settled in his groin, engulfing his thighs and coiling in his stomach. He was getting close again. His breathing was reduced to urgent pants and his free hand clasped the sheet like a lifeline.

"Ah, almost there," he stage-whispered.

Grimmjow's index finger and thumb encircled the base of his dick again, but this time only to keep it in place as he sucked faster, harder. Ichigo whined softly, hoping like hell the man hadn't heard him.

"Pleeease," he moaned, hips frantic by now.

Grimmjow moaned around him and it tipped the scales. Ichigo gasped and tensed everywhere, his heart seeming to stop for a few seconds as he emptied himself into the other man's mouth. He hoped it didn't offend the guy, but Grimmjow had caught him off guard with that moan of his. The vibrations had been like sitting in a warm massage chair. Too much at one time. His body slowly relaxed, muscles going rubbery and heart inching back down to a somewhat normal rhythm. His breath, however, was still rushing in and out of his lungs.

A straight nose poked him in the cheek and made him realize that Grimmjow was no longer between his legs. The blue-haired man's lips were pressing against his jaw, eyes a soft, cornflower blue for a change. Ichigo liked this version of Grimmjow; he was much easier to deal with. But he knew that was only the calm before the storm. Nothing was ever this nice with the guy as far as he knew.

A hard presence against his thigh made him notice that Grimmjow was still aroused and probably aching inside the jeans he wore. It made Ichigo feel bad for being so sated for the moment. That in mind, he reached for the man's zipper and button, fingers fumbling a little as he tried to free that impressive-feeling length from its confines. He was actually anxious to see it now. He had the button undone and was pulling the zipper down when someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Ichigo jumped drastically and wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's torso to keep him in place. He was still naked, so whoever was there had seen him in all his glory. He peeked cautiously around the blue-haired man's broad shoulder.

"Well, ain't this a pretty picture."

A low growl from the man on top of him kept Ichigo from questioning the pale one standing at the door.

"What the hell d'ya want, Shiro?"

"I jus' came ta say goodnight. Didntcha hear me comin', Six?"

"I was busy," Grimmjow grunted, face still pressed to Ichigo's cheek.

Ichigo was so embarrassed. He just knew that once the albino left, news of his and Grimmjow's moment would be spread like wildfire. His face burned as he tried to hide it against the bigger man's shoulder. He had to have the worst luck known to man. After all the things he'd gone through so far, this was just the icing on an incredibly crappy cake. The moldy cherry on top. A low rumbling brought him back to the here and now. Grimmjow was laughing. More like chortling with amusement. It was disturbing considering their current predicament. What the hell could be funny?

"Yer jus' bein' nosy."

The albino gave a watery chuckle. "Maybe. I heard ya were sharin' a room with yer little orange-haired obsession and I came ta investigate. Ya know, maybe see if it was true. An' looky, looky. Yer already screwin' 'im."

"Hey!" Ichigo interrupted. They hadn't gotten that far yet. "We're not screwing!"

"So whattaya call that, then?" Shiro asked.

Ichigo went silent and stared at the ceiling, once again cursing his god-awful luck. What on Earth had he done to deserve this turn of events? So far, the only good thing that had come out of it all was the enhancement to his senses – and even that had a drawback – and what had to be the best blow job of his life. It wasn't fair at all. And as if things weren't bad enough, another voice was added to the doorway.

"Well, well, well. Looks like somebody's havin' some fun."

He recognized that voice. It was the former pirate captain, Jiruga. His voice was a condescending lilt and it made Ichigo's skin crawl. Defensive, he bared his teeth and started to snarl something very nasty, when Grimmjow hushed him with his words.

"This ain't a peep show! You bastards c'n leave now."

"Ahhh-ah. I don' know, Shiro, whatcha think? I might stick around and see if they finish the deed."

Apprehension took hold of Ichigo's insides. They wouldn't dare. He glanced up at his blue-haired blanket in alarm, eyes wide. Grimmjow just shook his head and reached behind him with one hand.

"Get out," he growled before the sound of the door slamming and locking was heard.

Ichigo had forgotten that the man could do that. Maybe because he'd been insusceptible to the guy's ability for a while now. Whatever the case, he was grateful for it now. Boisterous laughter floated from the other side of the door, wrinkling Ichigo's nose and causing Grimmjow to sigh. The relief was short-lived because there was an obnoxious bang on it, then more laughter.

"Christ, they're like kids," Ichigo muttered, his sexual high long gone.

Grimmjow must have felt the same way since he rolled onto his back and put his arms behind his head. His ultramarine eyes rolled shut as he grumbled nonsensically to himself. Ichigo couldn't quite make out what the man was saying, but he figured it could be nothing good. He himself wanted to curse out the two idiots for intruding on something that had promised to be spectacular. Now the mood was lost. Ruined. His nerve had disappeared, courage withering away and dying in the wind. He was disappointed more than anything since he'd really been curious about Grimmjow's equipment and what it would have been like to have sex with a guy that unnerving. He turned to face the blue-haired man and studied his face. His bright blue brows were creased into a fearsome scowl, nose slightly scrunched across the bridge and upper lip curled into a fierce snarl. He looked positively pissed and Ichigo didn't blame him one little bit.

The room had gone eerily quiet, the only sounds echoing were their mingled breaths. It was frustrating. He'd been _this_ close to fucking the sexy man, only to have that opportunity dampened like a wet rag. Only now, he didn;t know how to wring it out. Grimmjow huffed under his breath and Ichigo sighed forlornly. He knew if he just did _something_, the whole atmosphere would change. The other man didn't seem the type to hold out for long, so it seemed it rested on him alone to rescue the situation. He took another look at Grimmjow and sighed again.

But _how_?

**Kind of short, but I'm hoping to update this more often. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Ichigo's thoughts were confusing as hell. Grimmjow glared over at the other man from the corner of one eye. What was so hard about making the first move in this case? He was just waiting for Ichigo to do _something_; Grimmjow was anxious to find out if all that defiance was good for more than just pissing him off.

_Fuck him_..._so bad_...

Grimmjow grinned like a fiend. Well, that was a start. Now, if only Ichigo would _act_ on his thoughts, they could get this show on the road. Grimmjow continued to watch Ichigo from his peripheral, smirking as Ichigo's thoughts filtered into his head.

_Felt big_..._wonder_..._tastes good?_

He almost rolled over and got things started himself when he heard that. If Ichigo was wondering about how his dick tasted, then that was surely good news. What the hell was the orange-haired brat waiting for? Was Grimmjow really going to have to get the boat rocking first? _Again?_

_But_..._if_..._big_..._will_..._fit?_

He'd _make_ it fit if it didn't. Grimmjow stared hard at the side of Ichigo's face, struggling with that bastard called "control." It was getting harder by the second, and he wasn't talking about his dick this time. Ichigo was pussy-footing around, and it was quickly beginning to bore Grimmjow. Everyone around him knew bad things happened when he got bored.

_Horny_...

Grimmjow pursed his lips and looked away. This was getting out of hand. He was a nanosecond away from rolling over on top of Ichigo and just going back to his previous aggression. He really didn't want that, though. As strange as it seemed, Grimmjow wanted Ichigo to move first because he needed to feel that the guy wasn't just messing around with him. He hadn't expected the spitfire to lose his balls in the process.

_Screw this_...

Before Grimmjow could even react, Ichigo was moving. The smaller man turned onto his side, face determined and set in stone. His arm had reached over, fingertips brushing Grimmjow's collar, when a shrill alarm started blaring. The light in the room blinked off and was replaced with a flashing red one that Grimmjow hadn't even noticed in the corner on the ceiling.

"What the fuck now?" he growled as he glared at the light.

Ichigo jumped hard enough to shake the bed before his wide, frightened eyes went to the red light. Grimmjow, however, was internally seething. He wanted to seek out the source of the commotion and put it twenty feet under – fuck six. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, brow wrinkled with agitated frustration. This crap just _had_ to happen right when Ichigo was finally getting over his case of nerves. Grimmjow stalked to the door, back and shoulders fraught with tension, but before he could open it himself, it was thrown open with so much force, it banged against the wall and cracked off its hinges.

He couldn't even react. In the next instant, he found himself against the opposite wall, head and back screaming in protest and eyes rolling with dizziness. He was unable to find his bearings, and it left him reeling with anger. He hated being caught so off guard that he couldn't defend himself.

"Mah, mah! A two fer one deal. Wouldja looka there."

Grimmjow tensed at the unfamiliar voice. He didn't know who had entered the room, but the way the man spoke lifted the hairs all over Grimmjow's body. He heard some shuffling before a warm presence made itself known right in front of him. That made him shake his head to clear the cobwebs from his vision before he focused on the body standing over him. Luckily, his eyes traveled the length of a pair of long legs, a naked, firm ass, a sleek torso, and a strong neck before coming to a pause on a head full of bright orange hair. Ichigo's arms were spread apart, blocking Grimmjow from the man on the other side of the room.

Grimmjow chortled.

Perhaps that was why he was always labeled as crazy – because he could find humor in the most sober of situations. But this was absolutely hilarious to him. Ichigo was stark naked, defending _Grimmjow's_ honor, when the man should've been defending his own.

Ichigo turned his head to the right a scant few inches, allowing himself a glimpse at Grimmjow while he also kept an eye on the strange man.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

Grimmjow chuckled again and reached up with his left hand. He slowly let his rough palm caress the flawless butt directly in front of him.

"You sure got a nice ass, ya know?"

Ichigo's neck and ears were flooded with red. "Now's not the time for that, you fucking pervert!"

That kind of offended Grimmjow.

"Oh, so _I'm_ the pervert? Even though _you_ were wonderin' what _my_ dick tastes like a second ago?"

Ichigo turned and faced the man standing patiently in the doorway. Eyes wide and expression horribly mortified, he calmly stated, "If you're here to take him, feel free to do so. _Please_."

Grimmjow cracked up as the pain at the back of his head and lower back started to subside. Although he was laughing, it didn't mean that he didn't have a sharp eye trained on the tall, extremely slender man near the door. The man's hair was silver and his grin was mile-wide, without a tooth in sight. Who the hell was this creep, and what the fuck did he want?

The guy cackled, obviously amused. "An' here I thought'cha kids were friends! So, I got some good news, an' I got some bad news. Which deliv'ry ya want first?"

Grimmjow eased to his feet, trying not to put his hand on his back for support, while he studied the silver-haired wraith. There was definitely something fishy about him. Grimmjow tuned into his senses and bit back a snarl at the lack of reception. However, he couldn't immediately jump to conclusions. The dudes on Urahara's team had had their thoughts blocked too.

"Good news for five hundred, Alex," Grimmjow drawled and put his right hand in his pocket.

The man beamed that creepy grin again as he stuffed both hands into the pockets of his black cargo pants.

"Well, tha's easy! Good news is, I can't kill either a'ya!"

"And the bad news?" Ichigo asked, voice tentative.

The man's eyes that had previously been slitted shut, slid apart and revealed crimson irises.

"Bad news is, I'm leavin' here wit' at least one a'ya."

Grimmjow stepped from behind Ichigo and lifted his hand a second too late. The silver-haired man's hands shot forward, palms facing outward, and the next thing Grimmjow felt was a searing, stinging pain in his shoulders. The breath was knocked from his lungs as he was pinned to the wall. He glanced over at each shoulder to see what was keeping him in place so painfully and nearly gasped at the sight of sharp, gleaming metal protruding from both.

_Where the hell did these come from?_

He focused on the silver-haired man again, and everything fell into place when he saw a set of knife-shaped projectiles aimed for Ichigo.

_What the_..._is_..._real?_

Grimmjow wanted to scream at the idiot to just get the fuck out of the way – never mind if it was real or not. Thankfully, Ichigo dodged the metal as he rolled into a crouch near the bed. His brown eyes were wild and feral, and his hair was mussed, but he looked like a warrior. The man in the doorway grinned as he edged closer to where Ichigo was crouched.

"Ya seem s'prised, Fire-Brains."

Ichigo snorted and smirked. "Can you blame me? I mean, I don't know you from a hole in the wall, and here you are trying to aim knives at me. By the way, where the fuck are those things coming from anyway? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Grimmjow chuckled through the pain in his shoulders at Ichigo's sarcasm. The kid's mouth would surely be his demise. The silver-haired man glanced in Grimmjow's direction, but that was a big mistake. Ichigo pounced from his position next to the bed the instant he realized he was no longer in the spotlight. He pinned the thinner man to the floor, studiously avoiding the guy's hands. _Good job_, Grimmjow thought. As Ichigo and the man wrestled around on the floor, Grimmjow carefully brought his trembling hands up and removed the metal from his shoulders. The sharp pieces were yanked free, but remained floating in the air in front of him. Right where he wanted them, actually. He took another look at Ichigo and the silver-haired man and gave a grin so big, he actually wouldn't blame a person for calling him crazy.

_Just this once_...

Ichigo was sitting on the man's chest, hands gripping the man's wrists to keep them immobile against the floor. Brown eyes were narrowed with a rarely seen malice and full lips were pulled into a harsh snarl. Grimmjow had had quite enough of seeing such an ugly side to Ichigo, so he maneuvered the floating makeshift knives over to the two scuffling men.

"Move, Ichigo," he said.

He didn't even raise his voice, but his tone had Ichigo looking at him over his shoulder and snatching his hands away from the man underneath him. As soon as Ichigo's hands were cleared, Grimmjow brought one of his own hands down as if he was mashing a button. The metal pierced the silver-haired man's wrists, drawing a delicious-sounding hiss and pain-filled groan.

Grimmjow ambled over and calmly squatted beside the man, not surprised to see the guy glaring at him through crimson slits. Ichigo was beside the man, frowning down at him, orange brows knitted.

"Ya might wanna put some clothes on there, Ichigo," Grimmjow commented offhandedly.

He ignored Ichigo's cute blush in favor of watching the range of emotions playing across their captive's face. The man went from pissed, to calm, to indifferent, and now he seemed like he was amused, if that smile etching across his lips was any indication.

"Where'd you come from?" Grimmjow went on. "I never saw you before."

The man's grin just widened until it was stretched over the entire lower half of his face. Grimmjow didn't like that; it felt like the guy was making fun of him or something. He sneered at the silver-haired man and raised his hand. But before he could bring it down and end the asshole's miserable little life, his wrist was gripped and held firm. Grimmjow glared over his shoulder at Ichigo.

"Why'd ya do that?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and let his wrist go. "Maybe we can get some answers from him before you go killing him. Ever think of that?"

"Yeah, but he ain't talkin'."

"So, what? Urahara might have something that can get him to talk or something. You never know."

"I don' give a shit. This guy's a creep, an' I don' like the way he's smilin' at me."

Ichigo sucked his teeth and nudged Grimmjow aside as he squatted beside the silver-haired man as well.

"Ain't that the pot calling the kettle black, idiot? You're always giving people strange grins."

Grimmjow leered at the orange-haired brat. He knew exactly what Ichigo was talking about. Fortunately, he didn't give _everyone_ those grins. They were one-of-a-kind and made especially for Ichigo.

"Nah, that's just for you, cutie."

Ichigo glared at him, but it did nothing to hide his flushed cheeks and ears. Grimmjow had a mind to finish what they'd started a little while ago, but figured that wouldn't be such a good idea with ole Silver in the room. Especially not with the way he'd been chucking knives at them. Besides, there was no way in Hell that Ichigo would go for it.

He watched as Ichigo turned back to the silver-haired man and asked his name. The man blinked before his eyes turned into joyous little arcs. Grimmjow gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. This guy was so asking to die.

"Look, asshole," Ichigo started, voice quiet and serious. "You came here and tried to hit me with your knives. I think the least you can do is tell me your fucking name."

Nothing.

Grimmjow growled under his breath as one of his hands started lifting on its own. Ichigo reached over without even looking at him and wrapped long fingers around his wrist before lowering the hand.

_Well, poo_.

"You're such a five-year old," Ichigo muttered. "I guess we just gotta wait for Urahara."

Grimmjow shrugged and pouted. That wasn't what he'd had in mind at all. He wanted to turn Silver's head into a smushed grape. That was a lot more fun than waiting for that silly blond to come and take care of everything. Grimmjow slowly took in the room again, his eyes pausing on the flashing and whirling red light in the corner. It was precisely that moment that he started wondering why no one had come crashing into their room to see what was going on. Where the hell was that kooky blond? Where was the rest of his crew? Hell, where the hell were Grimmjow's friends? Grimmjow started to climb to his feet, but was distracted by Silver's soft laughter.

"What the fuck's so funny?"

Of course, Silver didn't say a word, but the way he grinned and continued to chuckle grated on Grimmjow's nearly nonexistent nerves.

"Fuck this shit; I'm gonna kill him," he growled.

Ichigo opened his mouth to protest, but before any words could be released, his head snapped back like he'd just been shot in the forehead. He hit the floor on his back and convulsed, entire body seizing and shuddering uncontrollably. His mouth was wide open and the noise... Ichigo sounded like he was being tortured, desperate scream after desperate scream being wrenched from his writhing body. Grimmjow didn't know what to do, how to react. All he could do was watch and feel utterly helpless as Ichigo's body twisted like a worm on a hook.

What looked like bright blue and white wires of electricity seemed to spring from Ichigo's middle and wrap around his entire body. A light almost as bright as a search-light began to emit from Ichigo's mouth. Grimmjow leaped to his feet and tried to make his way over to the orange-haired man, but after two steps, his body jerked like he'd just taken a tackle from behind. His muscles seized up, and the next thing he knew, he was convulsing on the floor right along with Ichigo. Pain blossomed all over, starting with his back (which seemed to be the impact site) and traveling to his limbs and head. He felt like he was being torn apart. Slowly. Meticulously.

It was sheer agony.

As the pain escalated with each convulsion, Grimmjow only remembered screaming at the top of his voice before all he saw was black.

XOXOXO

_He saw a dark figure crouched over Grimmjow. The blue-haired lunatic's face was tight and drawn with pain as he screamed and wriggled along the floor. The silver-haired man who had previously attacked them was on his feet, standing over Ichigo and looking down at him with that creepy grin of his. _

What the fuck is going on?

_His attention went back to the figure hovering over Grimmjow. Its hand came back and plunged down over the blue-haired man's chest, driving a four-inch needle between Grimmjow's ribs. Ichigo tried to scream, but he couldn't move. His muscles wouldn't respond, so all he could manage was watching as everything fell apart around him. Grimmjow's back arched into the air, mouth opened in a silent scream. Just as Ichigo thought the situation could get no worse, a bright, white light seemed to switch on in the middle of Grimmjow's chest. It started at the size of a walnut and expanded until it was the size of a grapefruit. The figure leaned away from Grimmjow's body as it withdrew the syringe and reached for a high-tech, glass jar. Instead of a regular lid, the jar was capped with a complicated device that seemed to keep the insides of the container vacuum-sealed. _

_The figure released the lid and pulled it off of the jar before holding it over Grimmjow's mouth. Ichigo watched in horror as the light inside of Grimmjow traveled through his chest, up his esophagus, out of his mouth and into the waiting jar. The light bounced around the glass like a small, rubber ball before the figure hurriedly stuck the lid back on the container. As the figure placed the jar in a dark duffel bag that lay on the floor beside it, Grimmjow's body collapsed and went absolutely still. Again, Ichigo tried to scream, tried to move, but nothing happened. And then, the silver-haired man stooped over him, still wearing that infernal grin. The man's head tilted to the side as he held out a black device that spit electricity from two metal teeth at its tip. Ichigo watched with dread as the crackling machine came closer and closer._

"_Lights out, Fire-Brains," the man crooned and pressed the stun gun to Ichigo's neck._

Ichigo gasped, choked and coughed as his eyes flew open. The fact that he couldn't immediately focus his eyesight only compounded the surging feeling of terror. He flailed his arms, absently registering his body rolling off of a gurney. He stumbled along until his back was pressed against something hard and unyielding. Had to be a wall. He busied himself getting rid of the tube stuck down his throat and the tubes and needles protruding from his torso and arms.

_Not this again_, he thought in a panic. _Please, not again_.

When his vision finally decided to stop swimming, it landed on the swaying face of Urahara – not Dr. Grantz. Ichigo let his shoulders sag with relief, but his eyes remained in action, sweeping the large room for a hint of blue hair. When he didn't see it, he turned back to Urahara and concentrated on getting his wind back. He noticed the members of Urahara's team and also Grimmjow's little friends standing around what appeared to be an operating room. They were watching him the way a scientist watched a specimen in a jar. Ichigo took stock of his body in the process, grateful to find only a few bruises. It didn't seem like anything else was wrong. He wasn't in excruciating pain, and he didn't feel any broken bones – he might just be OK. Once he'd calmed down from the initial shock of what had to have been a dream, he set his eyes on Urahara again.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked.

Urahara, for once, wasn't the calm, cool and collected go-to man he'd formerly presented. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, face pulled into a confused scowl. When Ichigo asked his question, Urahara glanced over his shoulder at Starrk, who was standing the closest to him. The two men exchanged uncertain looks before Urahara faced Ichigo again. However, by then, Ichigo was on pins and needles, unsure of what to do or think.

"Hey!" he snapped, fear making him lash out. "Tell me something!"

Urahara lifted his hands in a calming gesture. "Calm down, Kurosaki-kun. I'm just finding it hard to explain at the moment."

"Well, try harder, dammit! And where's Grimmjow?"

Something made of metal clattered to the floor in the background, drawing Ichigo's attention. Shinji had a hand up, holding an aggressive Shirosaki back from lurching forward in Ichigo's direction. Shirosaki's face was twisted with rage as he glared bullets at Ichigo, and Shinji's expression was no better.

"Yeah, tha's what _we_ wanna know! Las' time we saw 'im, he was in the middle a'gettin' in yer pants!" the albino hollered across the room.

Ichigo frowned back. "What the fuck are you talking about? Me and Grimmjow were attacked!"

"Says who, eh?!" Shirosaki continued. "Nobody heard nothin'!"

"That's bullshit! The fucking alarm went off and everything!"

"An' guess what we found when it went off? A twisted lil carrot-head sittin' on the side a'the bed, but no Six in sight!"

Ichigo started to argue back, when he spotted the look on Urahara's face. He was studying Ichigo like every word Shirosaki was saying was the absolute truth. Ichigo's mouth snapped shut as he looked at all the occupants of the room. Now that he took the time to actually look, he realized that every person in the room was giving him a harsh, accusatory glare. Everyone except Urahara, of course. He just looked confused.

"I didn't do anything to Grimmjow," Ichigo tried.

No dice. Shirosaki snorted, Shinji scoffed and Starrk's eyebrow went up. The rest of the room just continued to watch Ichigo with disdain.

"Urahara, you gotta believe me. I swear, I didn't."

Urahara seemed to ponder what Ichigo was saying before he finally sighed and rubbed his jaw with his right hand.

"I had a feeling you would say that. Can you tell me what happened, Kurosaki-kun? I need to know everything you remember."

Ichigo didn't hesitate. He ignored his mortification as he explained the situation to Urahara. He told the blond about how he and Grimmjow had been in the middle of some extra-curricular activities, when the door had been thrown open, and they'd been attacked by a silver-haired man. The man had been able to shoot knives from his palms and had managed to catch Grimmjow off guard. Somehow, though, they'd turned the tables and trapped the guy on the floor. Grimmjow had been in favor of killing the guy, but before he could, the guy had started laughing, and Ichigo had felt a pain that exceeded what he'd felt in the hands of Dr. Grantz. He'd blacked out after that.

"That's it?"

Ichigo remembered the dream he'd just had, but he wasn't sure whether it had been real or not. Should he tell Urahara about it?

"Kurosaki-kun, I need to know _everything_," Urahara continued as if he'd read Ichigo's mind.

_Fine_.

"I, uh... I had a dream before I woke up just now. I don't know if it was real or what. I can't tell."

"What happened?"

"Oh, c'mon, Blondie! He's jus' gonna lie his ass off!" Shirosaki shouted.

"Fuc-" Ichigo started.

"Enough, Shirosaki-kun," Urahara interrupted. His face was serious as a church sermon as he stared at Ichigo. "I need to hear this."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the albino who was intent on blaming Ichigo for Grimmjow's apparent disappearance. He cleared his throat and went back to what he'd just seen in his mind.

"I was on the floor, on my back. I couldn't move, and I couldn't talk. I saw Grimmjow. He was a few feet away from me, and there was a person standing over him. I don't know if it was a guy or a girl – I think it might've been a guy. But they were crouching over him while he was having some type of seizure or something. Then, the person stabbed him with a needle. Right between his ribs."

Ichigo paused and licked his lips to hide the sudden disquieting sensation racing through him. After a moment or two, he went on.

"After that, Grimmjow kind of screamed, but no sound came out. His mouth was just open. And that's when I saw a light in his chest."

Everyone in the room remained skeptical, but Urahara's face showed open shock. His face had gone slack, and his lips were parted.

"Whoever it was that stabbed Grimmjow with that needle, they took the light that was in him. It came out of his mouth, and they put it in a crazy-looking jar."

"This is bad," Urahara mumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest again. He started pacing the space between himself and Ichigo, dark eyes stormy and concerned. "If what you're telling me is true, Kurosaki-kun, then we only have forty-eight hours to find and help Grimmjow-kun."

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked, beginning to worry himself.

Urahara stopped pacing and pinned Ichigo in place with his gaze. "When we checked in on you and Grimmjow-kun, Grimmjow-kun was gone, and you were seated on the side of your bed, Kurosaki-kun. When I spoke to you, you gave me a blank look before standing and screaming and tearing apart the room. After that, you passed out on the floor. No one dared approach you until you weren't moving."

"I don't remember any of that."

"Ah, and that's the problem. As I mentioned, if what you're telling me is true, then we were attacked by my old partner himself. He's the only one of his minions with the ability to cast illusions. The silver-haired one you described is his special weapon, Gin Ichimaru. Gin is crafty and ruthless, and he won't hesitate to kill you, even after he's been ordered not to, which I'm almost certain was the case."

Ichigo rubbed the bridge of his nose and massaged his eyes. This was too much. He remembered Urahara talking about his former partner, Sosuke Aizen, but Ichigo hadn't been aware that the man had an ability of his own. So, the guy had power in two different facets.

That sucked.

"So, wait! Why does that only give us two days to help Grimmjow?" he asked.

Urahara took a deep breath and sighed it out. "That light you saw was Grimmjow-kun's ability. Since he's the only one who was born with his ability, without it, he'll die."

The following silence seemed to puncture the room. No one said a word for at least two minutes.

Then, Shirosaki stepped forward and gave Urahara a stern stare. "We're gonna get 'im back, right?"

Shinji and the green-eyed guy stepped forward as well, the former wearing a determined expression, while the latter displayed his displeasure with a cold, distant look. Urahara nodded.

"You can bet on it."


End file.
